Two Questions
by Chelles
Summary: The shortest distance between two points may be a straight line, but the longer distance can be far more interesting.
1. The First Question

A/N: This story will examine two pivotal question and answer sessions in Grissom and Sara's relationship, as well as the time in between: Sara's invitation to dinner in season 3, and her question about Grissom's trust in her in season 7. It is a collaborative effort with GSR'r, who was the brain behind the concept…I am merely the scribe.

The format is a little different than my other stories, but, hopefully, it's clear. Make sure you pay attention to the dates in italics so you aren't totally confused.

Thanks so much for reading and reviewing! I hope you enjoy this story.

I don't own CSI. Some inspiration and dialogue are taken from episode 322, "Play with Fire."

* * *

_October, 2015_

"Hi, Mommy!"

"Hi, baby," Sara says, smiling as she watches her five-year-old daughter weave through her classmates to join her on the sidewalk. "Ready to go home?"

Anna nods, taking Sara's hand and skipping along beside her to the car. "We have homework."

"Really? What's your homework?"

"We have to bring a picture of our family to talk about for show and tell tomorrow."

"Well, we'll have to find one when we get home," Sara says, opening the car door and helping Anna get settled in the back seat.

"I want to take the one from Disney World," Anna says. "The one with us and Mickey."

Sara smiles. "I'm sure we can find that one."

"Good. Megan said she's never been to Disney World, so I want her to see it."

"Why?" Sara asks as she climbs behind the wheel. She and Grissom always ask their daughter to rationalize her decisions.

"So she can see what it's like," Anna says. "Then she can tell her mommy and daddy, and maybe they can take her someday."

"Maybe," Sara agrees as she backs out of the parking space. "So you had fun at school today?"

Anna nods vigorously before realizing that her mother can't see her. "Yes. I played with Chrissie and Emma at recess," she says. "We went on the monkey bars. Then, Kevin came to play with us, but he fell off and Mrs. Johnson said we couldn't play on them anymore today."

Sara smiles as she pulls out of the parking lot. "Did you _learn_ anything?"

Another nod. "We learned about families. That's why I have to bring a picture tomorrow."

"What did you learn about families today?"

"That lots of people have different kinds of families," Anna explains. "And, we got to talk about our own families. Ethan said that he has three brothers and two sisters."

"That's a lot of brothers and sisters."

"Yeah," Anna agrees. "He doesn't like it because his sisters won't let him in the bathroom in the morning."

Sara grins. "That would be difficult."

"I talked about you and Daddy," Anna adds. "And Hank."

"Are you sure you want to take the Disney World picture, then?" Sara asks. "We could find one with Hank in it, too, if you'd like."

"O-oh," Anna says. "I don't know."

"We'll look through the pictures when we get home. We'll find a nice one."

"Yeah," Anna agrees. She pauses. "Can we listen to the radio, please?"

"Sure," Sara says, turning on Anna's favorite top 40 station.

Within moments, the car is filled with the sound of Anna singing along with the radio.

* * *

"Anna Banana!"

Anna giggles. "Daddy!"

Grissom leans down to kiss the top of her head. "How are my favorite girls?"

"Anna's been telling me about school today," Sara says as Grissom comes up behind her to kiss her cheek. "She learned about families."

"What did you learn about them?" Grissom asks.

Predictably, Anna drops her book bag and lunchbox with a thud before answering her father's question. Sara shakes her head.

"Pick up your things and put them away," she reminds her. "Your snack is in the kitchen."

"I want to answer Daddy's question."

"After you put your things away," Grissom says.

Anna hangs up her book bag on the hook Grissom installed for her the week before school started, and carries her lunchbox into the kitchen. She puts it on the counter next to the sink, then hops up onto her chair at the table, where Grissom has set out two chocolate chip cookies and a glass of milk.

"Now," Grissom says, "let's hear about school."

"Well," Anna says as she sits down at the table with her cookies, "Carrie said that her mommy and daddy got married in the Bahamas with 500 guests, and that they had silver ice cream scoops as their favors. Lisa said that her daddy is a doctor, and her mommy doesn't work. She stays home and tells the maid what to do. And, Brian said that his family goes to Ireland for Christmas every year because it's where his great-great-great grandma lived."

Sara gives Grissom a look, and he shrugs. He had been the one to insist that Anna attend this very expensive private school. It is entirely his fault that these are her classmates.

"And," Anna continues, "Josh said that his mommy and daddy met at a big party, and that his daddy took his mommy to Paris to propose to her." She frowns slightly. "What's propose?"

"It's when you ask someone something very important," Sara says.

"Usually, it means that you're asking him or her to marry you," Grissom adds.

"Oh," Anna says. "Daddy, did you ever take Mommy to Paris?"

Grissom smiles. "Yes. But, she got bored with it quicker than I did."

Sara smirks. "You didn't complain too much about moving back Stateside."

"Of course not, dear."

"Did you propose to her?" Anna asks, oblivious to her parents' conversation.

"Twice," Grissom says, winking at Sara.

"Daddy has asked me plenty of important questions," Sara says, hoping it will divert Anna's attention away from their engagements.

"And, Mommy has asked me some important questions, too," Grissom says.

Anna's eyes light up. "Tell me."

"Tell you what?" Sara asks, thinking that she needs to work on her child's common courtesy skills.

"Tell me what questions you asked Daddy. Please."

Sara smiles and looks at Grissom. "We've always asked each other questions."

"Mommy asks some good ones," Grissom says, smiling back at her. "In fact, it was a question that made me realize that she liked me."

Sara's smile widens. "Really? What might that have been?"

Grissom flushes slightly and breaks eye contact with Sara to look at Anna. "You know, Aunt Catherine always told me that I needed to get my head out of the microscope."

Anna giggles. "What does that mean?"

"It means that I was so busy with work that I didn't know what was going on around me. I didn't have enough time to pay attention to Mommy or anyone else." He pauses. "No, that's not right." He looks up at Sara. "I'm sure I could have had the time. I just wasn't willing to _make_ it."

Sara smiles. "Ancient history."

Anna frowns. Her parents are getting off track. "Daddy! Tell me about the questions!"

Grissom frowns at her.

"Please, Daddy, will you tell me about the questions?"

He smiles. "Of course." He clears his throat. "Like I said, I wasn't good at seeing what was right in front of me. I knew that Mommy was my friend, and maybe, somewhere deep inside, that I wasn't content with that. But, I didn't think that she wanted anything other than to work with me. Then, one day, Mommy said something that made me realize that she wanted us to be something more than friends."

"What did she ask you?"

Grissom smiles as his eyes take on a faraway, dreamy look. "It was a long time ago …"

* * *

_May 2003_

Grissom leaned against his desk, flipping through his rolodex. It was time to at least _call_ the doctor. He knew it. He was starting to miss things. It wasn't all the time, or even enough to merit panic, but his hearing problems were more pronounced now than they had been a year ago.

He sighed as he stared at the specialist's number. It was so difficult to call. So difficult to schedule this vital appointment. So difficult to admit that he was human, and old, and subject to the same frailties as the rest of the world.

No, not the rest of the world. Not everyone had these problems. But, his mother did, and that should have been enough to convince him he needed to see his specialist. If his mother knew that he was waiting for things to get better on their own, she'd smack him.

But, she didn't know. No one did. And, Grissom wanted to keep it that way. It was far easier to live in denial when there was no one trying to talk him out of it.

"You … got a minute?"

Grissom looked up to see Sara leaning against his doorframe. He plucked the doctor's number from his rolodex and slid it deep into his palm. For some reason, the idea that she would find out about his … problem … was almost unbearable.

"I was just leaving," he said.

"Yeah, the schedule says you're off tonight," Sara commented.

"I am," he agreed.

"Me, too," Sara said quietly.

Grissom frowned slightly. She shouldn't just be off for the night, she should be off for the week. His stomach churned as he remembered how she had looked sitting on the sidewalk after the explosion. The lost, confused look in her eyes was something he'd never forget. "You should be on paid leave."

"I'm fine," Sara said firmly, with a smile.

She began to talk about the case they had been working; he followed the conversation easily enough. It was almost a relief to discuss work – for a brief moment, his mind was taken away from his hearing problems.

Even so, he needed to leave. He stepped closer to the door and to Sara, realizing that she was blocking it. He was about to ask her to move so that he could leave when she spoke.

"Would you like to have dinner with me?"

The first emotion Grissom felt was shock. The second was elation. The third, the one that stuck, was sorrow. No, he couldn't have dinner with her. How could he? She was a young, beautiful, vibrant woman, and he was an old man who was losing his hearing.

"No," he said, his tone suggesting that it shouldn't even be up for discussion.

"Why not?" she asked, still holding on to her smile. "Let's … let's have dinner. Let's see what happens."

"Sara …" he said slowly. He didn't even know what to say to her. Finally, he decided that honesty would work best. "I don't know what to do about this." His fingers ran back and forth between them in the air, as though trying to identify the unnamed "this" of their relationship.

Sara's hopeful expression dropped. "I do," she said. She paused, her expression becoming harder. "You know, by the time you figure it out, it really could be too late."

Grissom watched her walk away with a defeated slump to her shoulders. As he stood in his office, he experienced a moment of intense clarity.

He had always been interested in her. He couldn't deny that. But, he could easily ignore it, which was what he had been doing since the day they had met. After so many years, it had become second nature.

But, now …

Knowing that she had feelings for him changed everything. It was as though the doors to everything he had ever wanted were opening before him. All he had to do was to walk through them.

It was so tempting …

Catherine walked by silently. No … not silently. The heels of her shoes were striking the floor; they should have made some sound. Grissom watched as her lips moved, saying goodbye to him. The words never reached his ears.

He bowed his head in defeat. It could never happen. It didn't matter that he was attracted to Sara. It didn't matter that she wanted to give a relationship a try. He wouldn't do that to her. He wouldn't force her into a relationship with an old man who had every chance of becoming deaf within a few years' time. She deserved so much more.

Adjusting his things in his arms, he left his office. Resolution filled him. He'd let Sara live her life. And, he'd live his just as he always had – alone.

* * *

Angry tears spilled down Sara's cheeks as soon as she got into her car.

"Damn you, Grissom," she whispered, brushing at them with the back of her hand. "I don't want to cry over you."

She took several deep breaths, slowly feeling herself calm down and regain control.

She loved Grissom. She had been attracted to him since sitting down for his lecture years before, infatuated with him since going for coffee with him after the lecture, and in love with him since he had stayed up all night watching bugs crawl all over a dead pig to prove that her theory that a man had killed his wife was correct.

They were friends, to be sure, but, somewhere along the line, friendship had taken second place in her heart and mind. She had hoped that it had done the same in his.

And, now, he stood there and told her he _didn't know what to do about this._

Grissom may not have known what to do about them and their bizarre relationship, but Sara knew what she had to do.

She had to pull away. She had to bury herself in work. She had to find the distractions that Grissom had always said she needed.

She had to do anything other than think about him. Because, she wasn't about to ask him to dinner again. She wasn't going to give him another chance.

Every time she thought they were getting closer, every time she thought they were becoming more than friends, he would pull away and break her heart. She couldn't let him do it to her again. If she let that happen one more time, she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to fit the pieces back together.

* * *

_October, 2015_

"Why didn't you want to go out to dinner with Mommy?" Anna asks, frowning in confusion.

Grissom looks at Sara, but she only looks back at him. She will not make this easier for him. She will not explain away his actions.

"I was scared," Grissom finally admits.

Anna giggles. "Daddy, Mommy isn't scary."

"She can be," he says, looking not at his daughter, but at his wife. "She has the power to hurt me very much."

"Mommy won't hurt you," Anna promises. "She says she doesn't like hurting people."

"That's right," Sara agrees, finally coming to Grissom's rescue. "But, Daddy didn't know that back then. He was afraid that I wouldn't like him as much as he liked me."

Anna frowns again. "I like you both the same."

Grissom smiles. "There are different ways to like people, Anna Banana. You like your friends, right?"

"Yes."

"Well, I liked Mommy more than I liked my friends."

Anna's eyes light up. "Yesterday, Josh took Carrie's crayons and used them to write on her cubby. Carrie was mad, but Mrs. Johnson said he just did it because he likes her. Does that mean that he likes her more than he likes his other friends?"

"Probably," Sara says, struggling not to laugh. "Boys can be very silly about how they show that they like girls."

"Did Daddy write on your cubby?"

"No," Sara says, getting up to walk away before she burst out laughing.

"I was very silly about it," Grissom says. "I pretended that I didn't like Mommy at all, so that she wouldn't know how much I liked her."

"Daddy?"

"Yes?"

"That makes no sense."

With that proclamation, Anna bounces off her chair and skips down the hall. Grissom and Sara hear her going up the stairs to her bedroom.

Grissom looks at Sara with a sly grin. "Going to laugh now?"

Sara bursts into laughter.

* * *

"You're sure you're allowed to take two pictures?" Sara asks as she leads Anna into the garage.

"Yes," Anna says. "Mrs. Johnson won't mind."

"Okay," Sara says. She opens Anna's door, then walks behind the car to open the garage door. She gasps at what she sees.

"What, Mommy?" Anna asks, abandoning her lunchbox and book bag in the car to join her mother at the garage door.

"Daddy wrote on my cubby," Sara said, struggling between laughter and tears.

Anna looks up at the writing on the door and giggles.

_GIL LOVES SARA_

"He must like you, Mommy," she says.

"Yes," Sara says. "And, I like him, too."


	2. Denial

A/N: Thank you all so much for the fabulous feedback on the first chapter! GSR'er and I hope you enjoy this one as much.

I don't own CSI. Some inspiration and dialogue are borrowed from episode 323, "Inside the Box."

* * *

_October 2015_

Standing outside her daughter's school in the designated "student pick up" area, Sara watches as more and more children stream out of the building. She tries, mostly unsuccessfully, not to become concerned when she can't find Anna.

"Calm down, Sidle," she whispers to herself. "There are a million reasons she's running behind."

And, truthfully, there are. She checks her cell phone once again, only marginally relieved to see that she hasn't missed any calls. Surely, if something had happened to Anna, the school would have called her.

Finally, at long last, Anna appears, clutching her teacher's hand as they walk out together. Sighing with relief, Sara smiles brightly in greeting. Her smile fades as Anna and Mrs. Johnson draw closer and the tearstains on her little girl's face become evident.

"Anna!" She kneels down in front of her daughter and touches her cheeks and hair. "What's wrong, baby girl?"

Anna begins to cry again, and throws her arms around her mother's neck. Sara holds her tightly and looks up at Mrs. Johnson with concern. The teacher nods slightly.

"I knew you'd be worried; that's why I walked her out."

"What happened?" Sara asks, lifting Anna into her arms as she stands up.

"Anna and Timmy got into a fight," Mrs. Johnson explains. "Not a physical fight," she adds quickly, seeing the shock in Sara's eyes. "From what I've been able to gather, it was something over a few poorly-chosen words."

"What happened, Anna?" Sara asks.

Anna won't answer; she buries her head in Sara's neck.

"It happened at the end of the day, so she's still very upset," Mrs. Johnson says. "I'm sure it will all blow over by tomorrow. But, until it does …"

"Thank you," Sara says. "We'll talk to her."

Mrs. Johnson smiles and rubs Anna's back. "You'll be all right, Anna. You'll see. I'll see you tomorrow."

Anna nods against Sara's shoulder, and Mrs. Johnson smiles.

"I'll see you both tomorrow."

"Yes," Sara agrees. "Thank you again."

With one last smile, Mrs. Johnson turns to make sure her other students have found their parents or buses. Sara looks down at her daughter as best she can.

"Do you want to walk, baby?"

"No," Anna whimpers – rather pathetically, Sara thinks.

"Okay," she sighs. "Mommy will carry you."

Sara adjusts Anna more securely in her arms, and carries her the short distance to the car. She buckles her into her seat, then climbs behind the wheel. She glances back at Anna, who is still crying.

Deciding that it will be better not to force her to talk before she stops crying, Sara sends Grissom a text message to let him know Anna is upset, turns on the radio and drives them home.

* * *

By the time they arrive at home, Anna has stopped crying and is willing to walk in on her own. Grissom meets them at the door, his eyes showing his concern.

"Hi, Anna Banana," he says, taking her book bag and lunchbox from her. "Mommy says you had a rough day."

Tears well up in her eyes again. "Timmy doesn't like me anymore."

Grissom frowns. "Timmy's your best friend."

"But, he doesn't want to come over on Saturday."

Grissom and Sara look at each other over her head with matching frowns.

"Why is Saturday special, sweetie?" Sara asks.

"I wanted to play with him on Saturday," she says. "So, I asked him to come over. I said we could play with Hank. Timmy doesn't have a dog."

"But, he didn't want to come?" Sara asks.

"No," she replies, her tears spilling over. "He said he doesn't want to play dumb girl games. I didn't talk to him anymore after he said that."

"Ah," Grissom says, understanding dawning. "Were there other boys around when you and Timmy had this conversation?"

"Yeah," Anna says tearfully. "Josh and Kevin."

Sara smiles and nods for Grissom to explain. She takes Anna's lunchbox from him and carries to the kitchen.

"Why doesn't Timmy want to play with me anymore, Daddy?"

"It's not that he doesn't want to play with you," Grissom says. "But, sometimes, boys make fun of other boys if they play with girls too much."

"Why?"

"Because boys are stupid."

Anna smiles at that. "That's not true. Mommy says you're a genius, and you're a boy."

"Well, maybe it's better to say that sometimes boys make stupid decisions. And, sometimes everyone – boys and girls – can get upset over silly things. Sometimes, people can say things badly – or say something that they don't really mean."

Anna frowns. "Daddy …"

He smiles. "I'm not making sense, am I?"

"No."

Sara returns in time to hear the last few lines. "Look, sweetie, what Daddy means is that sometimes, we can say things that we realize later aren't the truth. Timmy probably didn't mean it when he said he didn't want to play with girls anymore. He probably just wanted to play with the boys right then, and did a very bad job of explaining it to you." Sara kneels down to look her daughter in the eye. "Anna, the important thing is that Timmy is your best friend. And, even if you have a fight with him, you're allowed to make up with him and still be his best friend."

"But what if he doesn't ever want to play with me again?"

"I very much doubt that that will happen."

Anna looks from Sara to Grissom, who nods his agreement.

"It's just like here, Anna Banana," he says. "Sometimes, when you do something wrong, Mommy or I get angry. But, we still love you very, very much. You understand that, right?'

Anna nods. "I want Timmy to be my best friend forever. I'll tell him that tomorrow."

Hank wanders into the room and presses his nose against Anna's face. She giggles and hugs him.

"Come on, Hank. Let's play."

Grissom and Sara watch as Anna and Hank begin a game of tug-o-war. Grissom smiles, and pulls Sara to his side, wrapping his arm around her.

"You're very good at explaining things to her."

She smirks. "Well, I think I heard you say that you didn't want to play with girls anymore more than once."

"Ouch," Grissom says with a smile. His smile fades. "You know … there was always a reason … maybe not a good one, but at the time, it seemed …"

Sara leans up to kiss his cheek. "It's okay. I always knew you didn't mean it."

Grissom raises an eyebrow. "Always?"

"Yes," Sara smiles. "In the end, anyway."

* * *

_May, 2003_

"So, what do you think we'll see when we get there?"

"Aside from an extremely upset bank manager? No idea."

Catherine smirked at Grissom, then turned her eyes back to the road. "Come on, Gil, play along. Let's guess."

"No," Grissom said. "Bank robberies can take too many forms. It's impossible to guess."

"You're no fun."

"I've accepted that fact about myself. Now it's your turn."

Catherine rolled her eyes. "You're not going to give me _anything_?"

Grissom sighed. "Okay. I'm guessing we'll see … chaos."

Catherine shook her head. "Thank you, Dr. Grissom, for using all your years of accumulated knowledge of forensic science and the criminal element to give me that guess."

"Hey, I didn't want to play. You were the one who insisted."

Catherine rolled her eyes again and pulled as close to the bank as she could before parking the SUV. Ambulances and news crews were on hand for the unfolding drama. People were milling around everywhere, gawking, yelling, and fighting with the harassed-looking officers who had been charged with keeping them outside the crime scene.

"Well, you were right – chaos."

Grissom smiled. "You expected anything less?"

They climbed out of the car, and were immediately accosted by a thousand noises. The sound of the bank's alarm rose above the voices and street noise, piercing the air around them. Catherine stopped to talk to a uniform, but Grissom ducked under the crime scene tape. He had already started to walk up the steps to the doors when silence fell all around him. He stopped walking and looked around in confusion.

The people were still there. They were still yelling, still talking, still demanding answers. The alarm was still ringing, he was sure of it. Yet, all he could hear was an eerie silence that was broken only by the muffled sound of the alarm.

Catherine walked past and said something to him. He stared at her, knowing that he had somehow heard the tone of her voice but that no words had been intelligible. She stopped and turned, asking if he was coming inside – able to read her lips when she was facing him, this time he was sure he knew what she had said. She inclined her head toward the door before walking into the bank.

As suddenly as it had left, the sound was back. The hundreds of voices, the alarm – which stopped only moments later – filled his ears again. Sighing with relief, Grissom followed Catherine inside.

Further chaos greeted them inside the bank – albeit a quiet, "just after the storm" sort of chaos.

According to the statements Brass had taken from the witnesses and tellers, the robbers had entered the building and forced everyone against the counter. Despite the orders not to move, a woman had desperately tried to get her little boy away from the danger. Their movement nearly cost them their lives; to their great fortune, Detective Lockwood, one of the homicide detectives, had been in the bank. He had drawn his weapon to defend them, but was shot before he could do anything more.

Brass watched as David examined the body of his friend and colleague. Grissom crouched next to him, taking photos and collecting evidence.

"Okay," Catherine said as she joined them. "Sara and the guys are on their way."

"Good," Grissom replied. "We'll need them. We've got to process this entire bank."

"And to reconstruct the vault with all those safety deposit boxes," Catherine added, referencing the only part of the bank to sustain any serious damage – or to lose any of its treasure.

"Yeah," Grissom agreed.

"I'm going to go start some overall sketches."

"Okay," Grissom replied.

Catherine walked away, followed by Brass, leaving him and David alone with Detective Lockwood. They wrapped up their work, and David called an assistant to help him take the body to the waiting van. Grissom, too, stood up. He stared at the scene as though waiting for an answer to jump out at him.

It was quiet with everyone else gone; he barely noticed that his hearing was fading. It wasn't until Catherine put her hand on his shoulder that he realized his entire team had arrived – talking amongst themselves – without him hearing them. He knew he did a poor job of hiding his surprise when he turned around and saw them all looking at him.

"Sorry," he said quickly. "I was thinking."

The look in Catherine's eyes was enough to tell him he wasn't fooling her – and probably hadn't been for quite some time. "Well, I was thinking that we need to start processing this bank," she said in a gentler-than-normal tone.

"Right," he agreed. He thought quickly. He needed something that would keep him secluded, and, preferably, away from Catherine. "I'll take the safety deposit boxes." He brushed past Catherine. Sara was standing next to her, holding her kit. _Perfect_. After everything that had happened between them recently, Sara probably wouldn't be inclined to chat with him. "Sara, you're with me."

Rage filled Sara. _How _dare_ he?_ It hadn't even been a week since he had refused her dinner invitation. She had only gotten the stitches out of her hand hours before. How could he demand that she spend hours – potentially _days_ – alone with him in a small room?

She took a deep breath, held her temper, and followed him to the vault. She could handle this. She would be the consummate professional.

And, maybe … just maybe … Grissom _could_ have an ulterior motive in mind. Maybe he wanted to be alone with her for a reason. Maybe he wanted to discuss what had happened between them. Maybe he wanted to get some things out into the open.

Grissom was already at work when Sara reached the site of the explosion. He barely looked up as she walked into the room. Sara stared at him for a moment, feeling another shot of anger jolt through her. _Typical_. He asked her to work with him, getting her hopes up that maybe he wanted to actually _talk_ to her, then ignored her when the opportunity for conversation presented itself.

Shaking her head slightly, she set her kit down and opened it. It was time to get to work.

Grissom waited until he knew Sara was absorbed in photo documentation before looking at her. She was working efficiently, as he had known she would. Aside from the fact that she was the member of his team who was currently the least likely to make any attempts to engage him in conversation, Sara's work ethic and ability made her the perfect choice for this assignment. There was no one he would trust more to reconstruct the scene of an explosion.

Pleased with his ability to know his team and their strengths, Grissom looked away from Sara. He silently returned to his task of sifting through the debris on the floor.

They worked quietly until Grissom began to find pieces of the bomb. He held it up for both of them to see.

"Electric blasting cap," he said, breaking the silence.

Sara's interest was piqued; she lowered her camera and leaned over to see the fragment in his hand. "Brown leg wires feeding into the grommet," she observed.

"Means they could have used C4," Grissom said.

They both looked away from the evidence in his hand to study the wall that had once been home to neat rows of safety deposit boxes. Quite of a few of them were gone now, in pieces on the floor. Grissom shone his flashlight around the blasted square on the wall.

"Utah, New Mexico, Colorado and Arizona," he said.

Sara hid her smirk at his very geeky way of describing what had happened. "Four corners," she said.

"What does that tell us?"

"Whatever they were looking for was definitely in the center."

"Monroe Effect," Grissom said, studying the floor again. "All force generated toward one central area."

"How are we ever going to find out what's missing?" Sara asked, feeling a bit overwhelmed.

Grissom ignored her question as he found another piece of evidence. "I just found the detonator."

If Sara said anything, he didn't hear it. He knew he should hear something; she was obviously still moving around behind him.

Suddenly, she was talking again. "… think we should –"

"I need to get this back to the lab," Grissom said quickly, cutting her off. "Can you continue here without me?"

"Yeah, sure," Sara agreed, blinking in surprise.

Grissom bagged the pieces of the bomb, tucked them into his pocket, and nearly ran from the vault. He knew he was probably being unfair, leaving Sara alone with such a mammoth task, but he couldn't stay with her. Not anymore. Not if his hearing was going to fail him around her. She wasn't Catherine, but she knew him far too well for him to be able to fool her for much longer.

He needed to get back to the safety of the lab. The sooner the better.

* * *

Sara couldn't believe that Grissom had left her with the huge job of processing the vault alone.

"He finds _two_ pieces of a bomb, and leaves me to do the rest?" she muttered. "God, that is _so_ Grissom. He'll probably be at the lab processing them for the next five days."

Brushing her hair back from her face, she looked around slowly. Before she could become overwhelmed again, she went to find a broom. She'd push the debris to the side and worry about the puzzle of the safety deposit boxes first. Maybe that would help her keep her sanity.

* * *

"Hey."

Grissom looked up as Catherine walked into his office. "Hi."

She frowned slightly as she crossed to sit across his desk from him. "What are you doing here?"

"Going over results from Trace."

Catherine rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry; that wasn't specific enough for you. Why are you here _now_? Why aren't you reconstructing an entire wall of safety deposit boxes?"

"It's not an _entire_ wall, Catherine."

"Don't try to divert my attention, Gil."

Grissom sighed and put his glasses on the desk. "I came back with pieces of the bomb to process. Sara's got everything under control at the vault."

"You left her alone with that entire room?"

"She'll be fine."

With a sound of disgust, Catherine stood up. "Come on."

"Come on where?"

"To the bank! That poor girl needs some help! Or, at the very least, a break. And, you need to get to work."

Grissom sighed and stood up with her. His true hesitation had very little to do with not wanting to work, and everything to do with not wanting to work with the two women most likely to realize that he was quickly losing his ability to do his job.

* * *

Sara worked for hours. And hours. And hours. She worked on putting the wall back together until it got tedious, then moved to sorting through everything else in the room. Once she got bored with that task, she returned to the wall. And, finally, her hard work had paid off. She had determined what box the robbers had taken.

"Wow."

Catherine's voice broke the silence and brought Sara's head up. She and Grissom were descending the steps into the vault together, both obviously impressed with her work.

"Almost looks good as new," Catherine said.

Sara smiled slightly at the compliment, and looked at the wall. Grissom and Catherine stopped beside her, also looking at the mangled boxes.

"This was the epitome of precision," Sara said. "The outer rim of boxes sustained the most damage. The intent was not to blow out the twenty-three surrounding boxes, but to preserve the sanctity of the center box, box 729. It's history. It's the only thing that's gone."

"It's the box they were after," Catherine agreed.

Grissom stepped closer to examine the space where box 729 had been. "And, we still don't know what was inside."

"Well, I was hoping we'd be able to get the owner's name," Sara said. "I'm sure he or she would be more than happy to report what was inside as stolen property."

Catherine smiled. "Let's talk to the bank manager."

"Hold on," Grissom said, holding up a hand. "We'll need a court order."

"Why?" Sara asked. "The man's bank was blown apart. He's been very cooperative."

"Yeah," Grissom agreed. "But, when it comes to protecting confidentiality – especially when it involves owners of boxes like these – banks get rather protective."

"You're right," Catherine agreed. "I'll call Brass."

She stepped out to make the call, leaving Grissom and Sara alone. Sara drew a deep breath.

"How's it going with the bomb?" she asked.

"Slowly."

She smiled. "As usual."

"Mm," Grissom agreed. "You … you've done well, Sara. Catherine's right; this is impressive work in here."

Sara blushed a deep shade of red at the compliment. She bit her lip to hide her smile. "Thank you."

"All right," Catherine said as she re-entered the room. "Brass says to give him half an hour." She glanced at her watch. "Want to grab something to eat? Sara, you've got to be starving."

"Yeah, sure," she agreed.

"Grissom?"

"Um, no, thanks," he said. "I need to run an errand. I'll meet you back here in thirty minutes, though."

Catherine frowned. "You're sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Okay. Come on, Sara. Let's go."

They walked out together, chatting about where they wanted to eat. Grissom sighed with relief.

His relief vanished as their voices faded before they had even left the vault. Dread filled him.

It wasn't going away on its own. It was getting worse.

Still … what if …?

He needed a second opinion. Soon.

* * *

Forty minutes later, Grissom and Catherine sat in the bank manager's office, waiting to speak with him. He had been informed of their arrival ten minutes previously, but had yet to appear.

Catherine gave a sigh of disgust. "What is up with this bank manager? We've been waiting forever."

Grissom remained silent. He barely heard her. This time, however, it wasn't because his hearing was failing him. His mind was too busy processing the fact that his hearing _could_ fail him at any moment to be able to register her words.

"Hey!"

Grissom looked at Catherine, watching as she brushed her hair back from her face.

"How long have we known each other?" she asked.

Her voice was soft – far too soft for Catherine's normal speaking levels – but he could still discern the words, which was something. "In days, months or years?" he asked.

She said something else, but he had no idea what she was asking – the look on her face said it was a question, but all sound was gone, and her lip movements … he hadn't been able to follow them. He frowned, looking at her closely.

"Can you hear me?" she asked, raising her voice, hoping he'd hear the question.

Grissom could read her lips that time, but was too stunned by the question to answer. He had known that she was figuring him out, but to have her ask him point-blank like that … He should have expected it, really. Catherine was never one to beat around the bush.

"Sorry I'm late." The bank manager rushed into the room, apologizing for his tardiness.

Grissom, once again, felt relieved. The man had saved him from a very uncomfortable position.

It felt like years before they could return to the lab. After the bank manager read the court order, he provided them with the name of the owner of the box: Benny Murdoch. While it was a name that meant nothing to Grissom, Catherine knew him – rather, had known him. Before his death, Benny had been a friend of Sam Braun.

Unable to talk to Benny, they found themselves in Sam's office. To no one's great surprise, he was very unwilling to tell them anything that was helpful.

At the end of their marginally productive morning, they returned to the lab. While Catherine immediately got to work, Grissom found himself going to the morgue. Doc Robbins wasn't performing an autopsy when he arrived, which Grissom counted as a stroke of luck. At the moment, he didn't need him as a colleague. He needed a medical professional – and, a friend.

"Albert," he called as he walked down the hall. "Got a minute?"

"Sure," Doc Robbins replied easily. "What's up?"

"I'd like a second opinion."

The doctor's eyebrows shot up. "A second opinion?"

Grissom nodded. "If you don't mind."

He waved him into his office, shutting the door behind them.

"Now," he said, turning to face Grissom, "what's this about?"

"I've been told I need surgery," Grissom said. "I'd rather not do that unless I don't have another choice."

"Okay," Doc Robbins said slowly. "What kind of surgery are we talking?"

"A stapedectomy."

Robbins's eyes widened. "Otosclerosis?"

Grissom nodded. "Would you …?"

"Of course. Sit down."

Grissom sat down and waited while Doc Robbins studied his ears. Finally, the older man straightened up and sighed.

"I wish you'd come to me sooner. Your condition's pretty far along. Why'd you wait?"

Grissom sighed and smiled slightly in embarrassment. "I hoped it would go away."

"Doesn't your mother have this condition?" Robbins asked.

Grissom nodded. "Yeah. It's hereditary."

Robbins gave him a look.

"I know. I wasn't rational."

"Look, Gil, I'm not going to preach to you. You came to me. But … doctor to doctor … There is a chance the bone deposits have spread into the inner ear, in which case, your hearing loss will eventually be permanent. If I were you, I'd schedule surgery as soon as possible."

Grissom looked up at him for a moment, then looked away. He was suddenly overcome by the desire to see his mother. He felt like a frightened child, and wanted her to tell him that everything would be fine.

Almost as soon as he had the thought, he chuckled. His mother wouldn't tell him everything would be fine. She would smack him for waiting so long, and schedule the surgery for him.

He knew what he needed to do. He had known for a long time. Robbins's words of advice were enough to make him do it.


	3. Facing Reality

A/N: Happy New Year! We hope you enjoy this chapter.

I don't own CSI. Some inspiration and dialogue come from episode 323, "Inside the Box."

* * *

_October 2015_

Coming home from his Thursday night class, Grissom finds a quiet house. He frowns slightly; usually, he comes home from class to find Sara and Anna in the midst of what they term "girls' night." He expects to see them baking or playing with Anna's toys.

He walks through the house until he hears the faint sounds of the television. He smiles, thinking that "girls' night" may have become "movie night." He walks into the TV room, where Sara is curled up on the couch.

"Hey," he says, leaning down to kiss her.

"Hey." Sara tips her head up for his kiss, but doesn't move. Anna is sleeping, stretched out across the couch with her head in Sara's lap.

Grissom smiles. "You wore her out, huh?" he asks in a hushed tone.

"I think _she_ wore _me_ out," Sara nearly whispers, chuckling. "I finally suggested the movie just to get her to stop for a few minutes. I guess she was tired; she fell asleep within fifteen minutes."

"Do you want me to take her –"

Sara's phone rings, cutting off Grissom's question. She grimaces, fearing the loud ringer will wake her sleeping daughter. She grabs the phone from the end table next to her, silencing it and sighing with relief when Anna does not stir.

"This is Sara. … Hi, Cath. … No, no problem. …"

Sara's voice fades away as Grissom stares at his sleeping child. Anna has not moved from her position curled up against Sara. She looks exactly as she did when he entered the room. She sighs in her sleep, and cold fear wraps around Grissom's heart.

_What if …?_

Sara snaps her phone closed and looks up at Grissom. "Catherine needs me at a scene," she says. "Can you …?" Her voice trails off as she takes in the expression on her husband's face. "Gil? What's wrong?"

"Sara," he said thickly, his eyes wide with fear, "we need to make an appointment to have Anna's hearing tested."

* * *

_May 2003_

If Doc Robbins' words of advice about the surgery had not been enough to convince Grissom of how advanced his condition was, his specialist's reaction to his phone call was. She cleared her schedule to get him into surgery that afternoon.

The speed with which everything was happening was a bit frightening, but, in many ways, it made it easier to deal with the surgery. Grissom didn't have time to panic or to talk himself out of it again. The only thing he had time to do was to find Catherine.

She was in the locker room, pulling on her jacket and grabbing her purse almost simultaneously. She looked up as he walked into the room.

"He's not returning _any_ of my phone calls," she said, sounding oddly close to tears. "I just need to confront this Sam Braun business once and for all. I'll drive."

Grissom stared at her for a moment with his mouth open, trying to choose the right words. "I'm not going with you," he said at last.

"What do you mean?" Catherine asked, slamming her locker shut.

Grissom stepped farther into the room and shrugged slightly. "I'm scheduled for surgery at Desert Palm."

Catherine stared at him. "Surgery?"

Grissom gave a slight nod.

She walked closer, stopping right in front of him. "Your hearing?" she asked softly.

Grissom nodded. "Yep."

Catherine looked down then back up at him. "I'm sorry," she nearly whispered.

"I'm not," Grissom said. "It has to be done."

And, suddenly, he wasn't sorry. He thought of his mother, and all she had endured during her lifetime without her hearing. It was a miracle that he had been able to hear without problems for so many years, and an even greater miracle that surgery could take away all the problems he was experiencing now.

Catherine still looked almost horrified. "What can I do?" she asked.

"Nothing," Grissom said, surprised she had offered. "I'm fine." He shook his finger at her in mock sternness. "Take care of the case."

Catherine's mouth dropped open as he turned to leave. "Wh …?"

Grissom stopped in the doorway and turned to look at her again.

"That's it?"

"That's it," Grissom said. "Um … good luck."

He walked away before Catherine could call him back again. She stared after him in shock.

Finally, she chuckled. What had shocked her more – his nonchalant attitude, or the fact that she was shocked by it? After so many years of friendship with Grissom, it was likely the latter.

* * *

After leaving Catherine, Grissom went straight home. He packed up everything he thought he might need for the outpatient surgery, emailed his mother to let her know what he was doing, and left for the hospital. He knew he was leaving early, but he couldn't talk himself out of it.

With the decision made and the surgery scheduled, he suddenly didn't want to wait.

* * *

Catherine had considered Gil Grissom one of her best friends for the better part of a decade, and had worked with him even longer. After so much time spent so closely with him, she had learned many things about him.

One of them was that he wasn't nearly as private as he wanted everyone to believe.

Although Grissom was never one to willingly give up personal information – their earlier conversation was clear evidence of that – he generally left it out in the open for the observant to discover.

Armed with that knowledge, upon returning from her very emotional interview with Sam, Catherine went into his office. The lights were at their usual dim level, and paperwork was scattered across his desk. Catherine shook her head, knowing that she'd be the one to take care of it while he was recuperating.

She shifted a few papers, and found his open date book. As she had expected, his surgery was written in bold red letters. She looked at the surgeon's name and the time, then glanced at her watch. Smiling, she shouldered her purse again and left the lab.

* * *

Grissom sat patiently as the nurse took his blood pressure. She didn't tell him what it was, which meant it was likely fine.

"They're prepping the room now, Mr. Grissom," she said as she rolled up the blood pressure cuff. "I'll be right back."

Grissom watched her walk away, then turned his gaze to the floor. He sighed, wondering why he didn't feel nervous. Shouldn't he feel nervous before surgery? All he felt was relief.

The strangest part of all was that he wasn't relieved about having the surgery. No, he was relieved, days after the fact, that he had turned down Sara's dinner invitation. He was relieved that she wasn't there with him. That she didn't have to see him like this. That she didn't have to go through this. That she didn't feel obligated to stand by the side of an old man. He may have been selfish enough to let her get close to him, but at least he had been able to spare her that.

"Hey."

Grissom's head snapped up, almost fearing that the soft, feminine voice had been Sara's. But, no …

Relief flooded him again as he saw Catherine standing in the doorway. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

She smiled and shrugged. "I just wanted to see you," she said. "And, I didn't want you to go in without wishing you good luck."

Grissom stared at her. He couldn't remember the last time anyone had done something so nice for him – had been such a good friend to him.

The nurse returned with a wheelchair; she stopped just behind Catherine. Grissom jumped off the table, and crossed to stand right in front of Catherine. She looked up at him with wide eyes.

"Thank you," he said. He nearly whispered, "For being here."

Catherine wrapped her arms around him in a friendly hug. Grissom returned it, wondering what it would have been like to have _another_ woman sending him into surgery.

He released Catherine and gave her a half-smile. Then, he looked at the nurse and shook his head.

"I don't need that."

Catherine turned to watch him walk down the hall. To her credit, she waited until he had rounded the corner before she started laughing.

The man who could remember and recall entire works of literature at a moment's notice had apparently failed to remember that his hospital gown was open in the back.

The nurse shook her head. "Are you here with Mr. Grissom?" she asked.

Catherine nodded, bringing her laughter under control. "Yes."

"You'll be taking him home, then?"

"Yes," Catherine said without hesitation. She knew Grissom well enough to know that he had driven himself to the hospital, and that he likely thought he'd be able to drive himself home.

"Good," the nurse replied. "I can show you to the waiting area, if you'd like."

"That would be great."

* * *

Catherine had to wait several hours before Grissom was through with the surgery and ready to go home. He came into the waiting room with a look of complete confusion on his face.

"Hey," Catherine said, standing up to meet him. "The nurse said you needed a ride home."

"I drove here," he said, still frowning.

"Yes," Catherine agreed. "And, I'm driving you home. I'll bring you back for your car later."

"Cath, you really don't need to do that."

Almost as soon as the words left his mouth, his eyes closed and he pitched slightly to the left. Catherine was at his side in an instant, easing herself under his arm to hold him upright.

"Dizzy?" she asked.

"A little."

She nodded. "The nurse told me you might be. That's one of the reasons I'm driving you home."

Powerless to fight her, Grissom nodded. He let her lead him to her car.

As soon as they stepped into his house, Grissom went to turn on his television. Catherine followed him, looking at him with raised eyebrows. Grissom smiled slightly.

"I'm going to leave it on for the next few days," he said. "I want to make sure I can hear it."

Catherine nodded. "Is there anything I can get you right now?"

Grissom shook his head. "You've already done more than enough."

She smiled and shrugged. "That's what friends are for, right?"

Grissom nodded.

"Now, your doctor told me you're cleared to take three weeks off."

Grissom grimaced. "I can go back in one."

"No, Gil," Catherine said firmly. "Take three. Goodness knows you've got the time saved, and we need you back at one hundred percent."

"Well …" Grissom smiled slightly. "I promise to take a week off. After that … I'll play it by ear."

Catherine rolled her eyes. "And, after a pun like that, I feel confident leaving you alone. You'll rest, right?"

"Yes, Mom."

She smiled. "Take care, okay?"

"I will. You take care of the team."

"You have nothing to worry about."

He smiled. "I know."

Catherine leaned in to hug him. "Call me if you need anything."

"I will. And, Catherine … thank you."

She smiled. "You're welcome."

* * *

"So, what are you guys hoping for tonight?" Sara asked as she sat with Nick and Warrick in the break room, waiting for the start of their shift.

"Hmm," Warrick mused, tapping his pen on the table. "Double homicide. That should keep things interesting."

Nick groaned. "No way, man. I'm hoping for the criminals to take a night off."

Warrick chuckled. "Poor baby pulled a triple on his last shift."

"Hey, you had a day off in between," Sara said with a grin. "Stop your whining."

"This is so not the place to come for sympathy," Nick said, getting up to pour himself a cup of coffee.

"That's it," Warrick said. "Caffeine yourself up. Take it like a man."

"Hey, everyone," Catherine said, walking in with assignment slips in her hands. "Let's see where I can send you tonight."

Warrick, Nick and Sara looked at each other with identical frowns.

"Where's Grissom?" Warrick asked.

"He's going to be out for a couple weeks," Catherine said.

The color drained from Sara's face. "Is he …?"

"He's fine," Catherine said, her tone giving away her relief. "He just …"

"What happened, Cath?" Nick asked.

"I don't know, guys," she said. "You know Grissom. He's not one to –"

"Give it up, Cath," Warrick said. "We all respect Grissom's privacy. But, at this point, I think we're all pretty much convinced he was hit by a bus on his way in today and just barely survived. Just spill the truth."

Catherine sighed. "Okay, it's probably better that you know the truth instead of letting your imaginations run wild." She took a deep breath. "You may have noticed that Grissom's been having some trouble with his hearing recently."

Sara and the guys exchanged glances and immediately looked down. Sara wondered if they felt as terrible as she did. Yes, she had noticed it, but she hadn't given it much thought – obviously, not as much as it deserved.

"Well, he had surgery to correct the problem," Catherine said. "He was in and out in less than three hours yesterday, and he's at home right now, resting comfortably. It was a simple procedure, so he tells me, but he still needs to take it easy for a little while. I promised we'd hold down the fort for him." She smiled slightly. "We can always borrow a CSI from swing if we need to, but I'd really rather not admit that we can't handle it on our own, so …"

"We've got it, Cath," Nick said.

"Give us assignments, and we're on it," Warrick agreed.

Sara nodded her agreement, but remained silent. Her thoughts and emotions were swirling into a jumbled mess; she could barely keep up with herself.

_Surgery. Grissom had surgery_.

She knew she should feel sympathy. At the very least, compassion. Yet, somehow, all she felt was irritation.

Grissom had a condition that required surgery, and he hadn't thought to mention it to her. Not even in passing. Not even as a reason for not wanting to have dinner with her.

Hope sprang up within her. Maybe … maybe he had turned down her dinner invitation because of his condition. Maybe he had been afraid that she would see him differently if she had known …

_God, Griss. If you only knew all that I'm hiding about myself … _

"Sara? You with me?"

Sara shook her head slightly. "Sorry, Catherine. What did you say?"

"I said that you and Nick are going to Henderson for a double."

"Oh," Sara said. "Okay."

Nick grinned at her. She tried to return his smile, but failed.

The very sound of Catherine's voice was enough to remind her that _she_ had known about Grissom's condition. She had known about his surgery. She had been able to provide them with an update on his condition. She knew that he was at home, and that he was resting comfortably. How did she know that? Had she been the one to fluff his pillows?

Sara knew that she was being unfair. But, somehow, that didn't make her any more eager to stop her angry thoughts about Catherine and about Grissom.

Yes, Catherine was his friend. But, Sara was his friend, too. Didn't she deserve the same courtesy he was so willing to show Catherine? Didn't she deserve to know how he was? That he was scheduled for _surgery_?

By the time she and Nick had made it to their SUV, she was more than willing to let him take the wheel. She was sure that the towering rage she had worked herself into wasn't the best emotional condition for driving.

Nick glanced at her as she walked to the passenger side of the car without a word.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Sure. Why?"

"You're letting me drive. Without a fight."

"Well, you'd better get behind the wheel before I change my mind."

Nick smiled slightly and climbed into the car. "Sara … you don't have to worry."

She turned to look at him. "Nick, you're a good driver. Why would I worry?"

"Not about that," he said, waving his hand as if to wave off her comment. "I mean, about Grissom. You heard Catherine. He's going to be fine."

Sara flushed, and turned to look out the front windshield. "I know."

"Good." Nick turned on the SUV, and pulled out of the parking space.

Sara released her breath in a quiet sigh. _He's going to be fine._

Unfortunately, that did very little to dispel her anger.

* * *

_October 2015_

Sara looks at her husband blankly. "What?"

"Anna didn't even move when your phone rang," Grissom says, his eyes still wide.

"I know."

"Sara … a ringer that loud should wake her up. The only reason it wouldn't is that she can't hear it."

Sara stares at him. "She's fine," she says.

"You can't know that."

"Look, what I do know is that Catherine needs me," Sara said. "Can you pick her up?"

Grissom bends down to lift Anna off Sara's lap. He cuddles her against his chest; she shifts in her sleep to snuggle against him. "Sara –"

"Gil, I have to go to work. We can talk about this when I get home."

Sara leaves the room, and Grissom turns his attention to the little girl in his arms. He presses a kiss against the top of her head.

"Don't worry, sweet pea," he whispers. "I'll make sure you get the help you need."


	4. Egos

A/N: We hope you enjoy this chapter! Thanks for reading and reviewing!

I don't own CSI. Some inspiration and dialogue are taken from 322, "Play with Fire" and 401, "Assume Nothing."

* * *

_October 2015_

As Sara pulls into her driveway, her first emotion is surprise. Grissom's car is parked there in its usual space. She frowns, wondering why he's at home. Normally, by the time she gets home from work, he has already taken Anna to school and is on his way to UNLV for his office hours.

"I hope Anna's not sick," Sara murmurs as she climbs out of her car.

She walks to the front door a bit faster than usual, and steps into a quiet house.

"Griss?" she calls. "Where are you?"

"Right here," he calls back from the kitchen.

Sara nearly runs into the kitchen. "What's wrong with Anna?"

Grissom frowns. "What?"

"You're home on a school day," she says as though it should have been obvious. "Is she sick?"

"No, she's fine. She's at school."

"Oh." Sara sinks onto a barstool at the island as relief floods through her. "When I saw your car, I got nervous. Why aren't you at work?"

"I wanted to talk to you," he replies. He abandons his task of unloading the dishwasher to sit down across from her. "We need to talk about Anna's hearing."

Sara frowns. "Her hearing?"

Irritation shows on Grissom's face. "She didn't hear your phone ringing last night, Sara. Something's wrong."

"I think you're being a bit dire," Sara replies. "She doesn't tend to hear me telling her to pick up her toys, either, but you've never suggested we test her hearing over that."

"Sara," Grissom says, his irritation now creeping into his voice, "don't be like that. You know there's a world of difference between the two situations."

"I know that you're getting awfully upset over an isolated incident."

"Honey, be reasonable. It's a genetic condition! My mother had it, I have it … there's every chance in the world that Anna does, too."

"Your genes only make up half her DNA," Sara shoots back. "She could just have easily have missed out on that condition."

Grissom stares at her in shock. He can't believe that Sara is avoiding a problem. _She is so strong … she always confronts her problems head on. _

Almost as soon as the thought goes through his head, he realizes that it's not entirely true. Sara has side-stepped problems in the past.

_Only when she's scared,_ he mentally acknowledges. _And, this … this is a scary situation. _

"Sara, I know it's scary to think about, but –"

"I need to get some sleep before I have to pick Anna up from school." She stands up from her stool and leans to down to kiss him. "I love you, Gil."

Grissom watches as she walks out of the room, stunned by her avoidance.

_This is impressive … even for Sara. _His lips twist into a wry smile as he thinks of all the times Catherine has chided him for similar behavior.

"A role-reversal," he muses. "Not the first … and likely not the last."

* * *

_June 2003_

Three weeks was a long time.

Long enough, Sara learned, to get over anger.

As they rapidly approached the day Catherine had promised Grissom would return to work, Sara found her anger over his treatment of her melting away. Yes, he had denied her offer of dinner … and considerably more. Yes, he had gone into surgery without telling her.

But, she kept secrets from him, too. Why should she punish him, even in her thoughts and feelings, for being human?

She made her resolution. When he got back to work, she would be sure to treat him with the respect and friendship that had always existed between them.

She glanced at the calendar, and felt a thrill of excitement shoot through her. She could hardly wait to see him again.

* * *

"_Would you like to have dinner with me?"_

_The first emotion Grissom felt was shock. The second was elation. The third, the one that stuck, was sorrow. No, he couldn't have dinner with her. How could he? She was a young, beautiful, vibrant woman, and he was an old man who was losing his hearing._

"_No," he said, his tone suggesting that it shouldn't even be up for discussion._

"_Why not?" she asked, still holding on to her smile. "Let's … let's have dinner. Let's see what happens."_

"_Sara …" he said slowly. He didn't even know what to say to her. Finally, he decided that honesty would work best. "I don't know what to do about this." His fingers ran back and forth between them in the air, as though trying to identify the unnamed "this" of their relationship._

_Sara's hopeful expression dropped. "I do," she said. She paused, her expression becoming harder. "You know, by the time you figure it out, it really could be too late."_

The scene played over and over in his mind during his time spent recuperating from his surgery. For the first week, he reminded himself that he had done the right thing. Sara deserved better than him.

But, as the weeks moved on … as his hearing improved … as he started to feel like the man who had met Sara during a conference in San Francisco …

He started to hope that it wasn't too late.

* * *

Going back to work after three weeks off tended to be something most people would dread. Gil Grissom, however, was excited as he walked to his car with his kit in hand for the first time in nearly a month.

Part of his excitement, he knew, stemmed from the utter boredom of so much time at home. At first, it had been necessary. Recovering from surgery, no matter how healthy the patient had been before going into the hospital, was never easy. However, once he had gotten over the initial exhaustion and generally feeling of illness, he had found himself with very little to occupy his time.

He had spent time catching up on his reading and doing some research, but had quickly found that his patience for such pursuits wore thin. It was ironic that the man who preached patience to his team found himself almost unable to sit still and read for more than an hour at a time. Perhaps the faster pace of his crime-solving life left him unable to handle the slower pace of the academic life that he had once dreamed of living. While it was an enjoyable sideline, he was sure he would never want to make it his main occupation.

The most exciting part of his time at home was the simple act of _listening_. He left his television on for the first four days after his surgery, thrilled that he could hear it. When he turned it off, he found himself listening for every little sound. A dripping faucet he had neglected to turn off all the way, a chirping bird in the tree outside his bedroom window, a neighbor's shout for her children to come in for lunch, squealing tires as another neighbor left late for work, the ringing phone as Catherine called to check on him … They were such little things, but Grissom reveled in being able to experience them fully again. It made him feel … alive again. Younger.

As he made the last turn before he would arrive at the lab, a thrill of nervous excitement shot through him. In only a few minutes, he would see her again.

As his feelings of being old before his time had faded away over the past few weeks, Grissom's last and most tightly-held reason for denying his feelings for Sara had faded with them. She had asked him to dinner, which meant that she was clearly interested in pursuing a relationship with him. After taking the time to appropriately analyze the potential of such a relationship, he found that the positives outweighed the negatives. It was time. He was going to give it a try – as Sara had said, to see what would happen.

He felt lighter than he had in months as he parked in his usual space and made his way into the lab. Judy's face lit up as he passed her desk.

"Welcome back, Dr. Grissom!"

He returned her smile. "Thanks, Judy."

"Catherine's been picking up your messages and mail," she said. "You'll have to get everything from her."

"Is she here yet?"

"Yes, sir. She just got in a few minutes ago."

"Thanks," Grissom said again.

He left Judy and made his way to his office. The door was open and the lights were on; Catherine stood behind his desk, organizing several slightly overwhelming stacks of papers.

"Hi," he said as he crossed the threshold.

"You're back!" Catherine rushed around the desk to hug him. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," Grissom said with a chuckle. "You, of all people, should know that. You called me almost every day."

Catherine shrugged unapologetically. "I missed you. We all did."

"I missed all of you, too," Grissom said.

"Hey, Catherine – oh, Gil, you're back!" Brass ducked his head into the room, but didn't walk all the way in. "Good. I've got a homicide at the Sphere. Ready to jump back into the pool?"

Grissom smiled. "More than ready." He turned to Catherine. "Is anyone else here yet?"

"I saw Sara in the locker room."

"Good," Grissom said, his excitement kicking up again. "I'll get her before we go. Do we have any other cases tonight?"

"Not yet."

"Okay. Call Nick and Warrick; tell them to meet us at the Sphere. That place is massive; we'll need as many hands as we can get."

Catherine nodded. "I'll meet you and Sara at the car."

Grissom, more than happy to leave his paperwork behind, left his office. Sara, as Catherine had predicted, was in the locker room, organizing herself before the start of shift.

"Hi," Grissom said from the doorway.

Sara's head snapped up at the sound of his voice. As she looked at him, all her excitement about seeing him again faded away. The anger that had plagued her for so long returned with stunning strength.

_Not here … not now. _

She worked hard to disguise her anger. Any emotion, happy or otherwise, was completely hidden as she looked at him with a neutral expression. "Welcome back."

Grissom smiled. "Thanks." He stepped more into the room. "How have you been?"

"Fine," Sara replied. "I think I'm the one who should ask you that, though."

"I'm fine," Grissom said, still holding his smile even in the face of her stoic expression. "Um … We've got a case. Homicide at the Sphere."

"You and I are working together?" she asked, dread creeping into her eyes.

Grissom frowned at the change in her expression. "Catherine's coming with us now, and the guys will meet us there."

"Oh," she said, her expression clearing. "Okay. I'll meet you at the car."

Grissom nodded and left the room, still puzzling over her reaction to the idea of working with him.

_What on earth happened while I was gone?_

* * *

Sara stared after Grissom as he left the room. She was shocked by the force of her emotions, but couldn't deny them. Seeing him again made her realize that her anger, far from forgotten, was alive and well.

"Seriously?" she muttered. "He turns me down for dinner, doesn't tell me he's having _surgery_, and now that he's back, he wants to be my best friend? Oh, I don't think so."

She slammed her locker shut and went to join her teammates at their SUV.

* * *

Catherine was already at the car when Grissom arrived. She frowned at the look on his face.

"What's wrong?"

"What happened to Sara while I was gone?" he asked.

Catherine's frown deepened. "What do you mean?"

"She doesn't seem like herself."

Catherine shrugged. "She's been fine."

"Huh." Grissom climbed behind the wheel. "She's on her way out."

Catherine nodded and waved as Sara approached with her kit in hand.

"Hi," Sara said. She opened the back door and climbed in behind the passenger seat.

Catherine, who had expected Sara to at least claim shotgun, if not argue that she should be allowed to drive, raised her eyebrows. Maybe Grissom was right.

* * *

"Hello, everyone," Brass said as Grissom, Catherine and Sara walked into the Sphere together. "Our vic is a woman in her mid- to late-twenties, found in one of the rooms by a housekeeper. Coroner's with her now, so we should have an ID by the time we get up to the room."

"Which room?" Sara asked.

Brass consulted his notes. "1066."

"Okay. I'll go talk to the front desk." She glanced at Grissom as though asking his permission, but at the same time daring him not to grant it.

"Okay," Grissom replied. "Catherine, shall we go visit with the dearly departed?"

"Sure," she replied.

"Brass, can you send us Nick and Warrick when they get here?"

"I'm on it."

Grissom and Catherine went to the elevators, and Brass followed Sara to the desk.

"You okay?" he asked.

Sara frowned. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"It's not like you to volunteer for a job before you even have all the facts."

Sara sighed. "Leave it alone, Jim."

"Sara, should I be worried?"

She smiled. "No. But, you're a sweetheart for asking."

Brass grinned and shook his finger at her. "You should know better than to flatter me into not worrying about you."

Sara laughed. "Sorry. But, seriously, Jim, I'm fine. No need to worry."

"Okay," he replied. "I'm going to wait for Nick and Warrick. Call if you need me."

"Will do."

Brass walked away, and Sara sighed with relief. She loved him for his concern, but she clearly wasn't going to tell him the real reason she had volunteered to work alone.

The idea of spending time in a hotel room with Grissom made her incredibly uncomfortable.

* * *

"Okay, _what_ is going on?" Catherine asked as she and Grissom rode the elevator to the tenth floor.

"What do you mean?"

"You and Sara!" Catherine exclaimed. "She was fine when I first saw her at the lab, and now she's barely speaking. What did you do to her?"

"Nothing!" Grissom held up his hands to ward off her verbal attack. "She's been like this since I said hello to her."

Catherine gave him a sideways glance. "Gil …"

He sighed. "Catherine, I really can't tell you any more than what I already have. She certainly seems angry, but I honestly have no idea why."

"Okay," Catherine conceded. "Just … be nice to her, okay?"

"I'm trying," Grissom said. "I really am, Cath. I've only been back for an hour. How much harm could I have done?"

Catherine smiled. "Fair enough. I'll talk to her."

Grissom sighed with relief. Hopefully, a woman-to-woman talk would help Sara's outlook. The last thing he needed was for his team to fall apart around him.


	5. Stubbornness

A/N: We hope you enjoy this chapter! Thanks for reading and reviewing.

I don't own CSI. Some inspiration and dialogue are taken from episodes 401, "Assume Nothing" and 402, "All for Our Country."

* * *

_June 2003_

Sara's cell phone alarm rang. Sighing, she picked it up and looked at the time. She was ten minutes away from a meeting to discuss the evidence in what had become an investigation of a serial killing couple.

She had done an admirable job of avoiding Grissom thus far – even to the point of asking Archie to deliver evidence to him rather than taking it herself. She found that her anger was easier to rein in if she didn't have to talk to him.

But, with the ringing of her alarm, that avoidance became impossible. She packed up the evidence she had been working with, and grabbed her notes.

When she arrived in the conference room, Grissom was the only one there. She checked in the doorway, but took a deep breath and entered the room.

"Hi," she said.

Grissom looked up at her with a wide smile. "Sara, hi."

Sara's breath caught as she sat down next to him. When she had seen him before, she had been so busy being angry that she hadn't really taken the time to look at him. Now, when it was just the two of them and she had no way to avoid looking him in the eye, she could see the changes in him. _Oh, that beard. He was gorgeous before, but _now_ … there are no words._

"I haven't seen much of you since we got started on this one," Grissom said.

"Yeah, there's a lot to process," Sara said.

As she forced her eyes back to his, she wondered what exactly she was talking about when she mentioned _processing_. The look in his eyes … she hadn't seen that look in years. It was as if his surgery had sent him back to being the man she had met in San Francisco … a younger man, who was more open to … life. As their eyes met, Sara's heart began to pound. _Oh, my. Where, oh, where do we go from here?_

"Hey, guys," Nick said as he came into the room, breaking the spell. He sat down across from Sara. "Where's everyone else?"

"On their way, I'm sure," Grissom said, reluctantly tearing his eyes from Sara's to look at Nick.

"Hey, if we've got some time, Grissom, I wanted to ask you about a conference in LA. Is there funding available for me to attend?"

As Grissom and Nick began their conversation about what Nick would need to do to attend the conference, Sara drew a shaky breath. She was glad for the time to get herself under control.

_Hold it together, Sidle. You _cannot_ let yourself get sucked in by this man again. He's just your boss. Nothing more. _

* * *

There was a reason that Grissom constantly preached patience to his team. In their line of work, they were under constant pressure to produce results, but had to fight the urge to rush. Answers and results took time, and accurately was everything. Patience was, in Grissom's opinion, one of the more important traits of a CSI.

Even so, he found himself tested as they waited for the DNA results that would get them a warrant to search the house of the couple they were certain was on a killing spree. He found himself haunting Greg's lab with Nick, anxiously awaiting the results.

Sara sat with Warrick and Catherine in the break room, waiting for the news that they could further their investigation. Warrick leaned back in his chair and stretched his hands above his head.

"Does this seem pointless to anyone else?" he asked.

"What?" Catherine asked.

"Waiting! That couple could have murdered six more people in the time it's taking us to get a warrant!"

"Doubtful," Catherine said. "Brass put a couple of undercover officers on the house as soon as his first request for a warrant was denied."

"Oh-o," Sara said, her face relaxing. "Well, that does make it a little better."

"DNA is a match!" Nick nearly ran into the room. "Grissom already called Brass, who's on the phone with the judge now."

"Now, _that's_ what I'm talking about!" Warrick grinned.

"Brass got the warrant," Grissom said, rushing into the room. "I'm going to the house with him now."

"Do you want us to tag along?" Catherine asked.

"No, I want you and Sara to go to a different scene," Grissom replied. "O'Reilly's got a dead college kid. He says it looks suspicious."

Sara's mouth dropped open.

"Okay," Catherine said, standing up to take the assignment slip. She glanced at Sara, then met Grissom's eyes again. "You're sure you won't need us?"

"I'm sure the guys and I can handle it."

Catherine shrugged. "Okay, Sara, let's go see what happened to this kid."

Sara refused to meet Grissom's eyes as she stood and followed Catherine out of the break room. A high-profile, serial case … and he had the audacity to send them to a different scene? She could feel her blood pressure rising.

And, yet … she felt a bit relieved, too. Every time she looked at him, her feelings and emotions became a complicated jumble, and she had no idea how to deal with it. Being forced to avoid him was probably a good thing.

Grissom watched his coworkers leave the room and bit his lower lip. He knew that Sara was likely very angry with him – she hated being bumped from one case to another, particularly when one was as enthralling as their serial case. But, he needed someone to take the college case. She and Catherine were the logical choices. Both were competent, and both could work the case alone if he needed to summon one of them back to his current case.

And, after the way she had looked at him just before their meeting … the heat in her eyes … Even with all his plans, his resolutions and his decisions …

Keeping his distance from Sara seemed like a good course of action.

* * *

Sara was silent during their drive to their new scene. Catherine kept glancing at her, but she, too, held her silence. She wanted to keep her promise and ask Sara if she was angry with Grissom, but didn't think this was the right time. Obviously she was angry – it was just unrelated to Grissom's initial fears.

Finally feeling controlled enough to speak, Sara broke her silence as they climbed out of their SUV at the scene.

"I can't believe Grissom pulled us off that serial murder case."

"Yeah, well, let me tell you how it ends," Catherine said. "They die."

Sara smiled slightly at her colleague's rather morbid sense of humor.

Catherine's eyebrows shot up as they turned toward the house. "Whoa, this isn't half bad for college kids."

"Yeah," Sara agreed. "Why live in a one-room flea bag when you can pull your resources and live like this?" She thought of the places she and Mary had lived during their college and grad school days. Although none had been this big, it had just been the two of them. They hadn't done half bad for themselves, either.

"Hey, how 'bout it?" Catherine asked with a grin. "You, me, Warrick, Nick, Grissom …"

Sara shook her head. "Um, no. Not Grissom."

Catherine chuckled. She was on the verge of making a comment about the fact that Grissom would come complete with about a hundred of his closest, smallest friends, when they walked into the house … where it appeared to be raining.

"What the hell is this?" Catherine exclaimed.

A police officer met them at the door. He was holding an umbrella over his head, and held one out to them.

"Ma'am, you may want to take one of these," he said.

Sara smiled and accepted the umbrella. "Thank you." She looked at the cop for a moment, thinking that she'd never seen him before – and that he was very attractive. _Grissom always said I needed a distraction … _

"Thanks," Catherine said as Sara held the umbrella over both of them. "Where's the body?"

"Upstairs," the officer replied.

"Upstairs?" Sara repeated.

He nodded. Sara and Catherine looked around the flooded first floor; horror slowly seeped through both of them.

"It's raining _man juice_?" Catherine asked in disbelief.

"Hallelujah?" Sara asked.

Catherine shot her a look and rolled her eyes.

Their friendly police officer returned with two pairs of rubber boots. "You might want to wear these," he said, putting them down in front of them.

"Thank you," Sara said, giving him a smile.

He smiled back, flushing slightly. Catherine glanced between them with a smile of her own. _Oh, Grissom. If you could only see this._

Once they both had their boots on, they walked across the foyer and up the stairs. As soon as they got past the first floor, they were out of the "rain," but found themselves contending with a flood of water that raced down the hall and stairs.

"Well, the weather's clearing," Sara said as she collapsed the umbrella and gave it a shake.

"Yeah, if only the smell would," Catherine said.

"Yep," Sara agreed. She and Catherine always prided themselves on their ability to deal with the less-aesthetically pleasing aspects of their job – when they were in constant competition with men, it was a necessity. But, the smell in this house –

"It's like a sewer in here," Catherine stated.

Sara nodded her agreement.

They passed the first flooded bedroom and found their way to the bathroom. Sara turned to look in first; she was stunned by the sight of the distorted, bloated body in the bathtub.

"Oh, my goodness!"

Catherine stepped up beside her. "Oh, God."

O'Reilly, standing next to the tub, didn't even crack a smile. "Soup's on."

"How long has he been in here?" Catherine asked.

"Roommates last saw him on Thursday night," O'Reilly said. "Took off for the weekend. Came home to this."

"Guy goes to take a shower and DFOs," Sara said. "He never got to the cold water, did he?"

"Roommate said only the hot water faucet was on."

"Must've been a steam bath in here," Sara commented.

"Still is," O'Reilly replied.

After a short debate about evidence collection and body removal, Catherine called in a team to take the bloated body out through the bathroom window, leaving the tub in the room for her and Sara to process.

Catherine watched as Sara thanked the crew that took the body out, noting again her cheerful smile. Sara turned to see Catherine watching her.

"What?"

"Nothing," Catherine said quickly. She looked at the now-bodiless tub. "Shall we?"

Sara nodded. "Let's do it."

* * *

Sara and Catherine spent hours collecting evidence from the tub and the rest of the house. When they were finally done, they were both relieved to go outside and breathe the fresh air.

"I'm sure I'll never eat again after the way that place smelled, but do you want to go get a drink?" Catherine offered.

Sara smiled. "Sure, why not?"

Catherine returned her smile. "I'll drive."

* * *

Catherine and Sara didn't often go out for drinks together, just the two of them, but when they did, they always found their way to the same place. The bar was just this side of a dive, but they made the best martinis Catherine had found in Vegas. She loved the more upscale places, too, but there was something very charming about the smaller, less glitzy bar that appealed to her.

And, after a day like they had had, she was sure they could both benefit from a good martini.

"Ah, this is better," Catherine said as she took her first sip of her drink. "Nothing like a good martini to cap off a bizarre day."

Sara smiled. "I'll drink to that." She took a sip of her drink. "Ugh, can you imagine the autopsy on this guy?"

The smile slid of Catherine's face. "Why would you put that thought in my head?"

Sara laughed. "Sorry."

"That's it! We are not talking about the case anymore."

"Fair enough. Would you like to choose our new topic?"

Catherine tried to look thoughtful as she sipped at her drink. She knew _exactly_ what she wanted to talk about. "Are you in the market for a new man?"

Sara choked on her drink. "_What_?"

Catherine grinned. "I saw the way you were looking at those guys at the crime scene – and I'm not talking about the floater."

Sara blushed a deep shade of red.

"Thought so," Catherine said with a triumphant grin. "Hey, I can't blame you. That cop at the scene was cute."

Sara's blush deepened. "Yeah," she admitted reluctantly.

"I don't usually condone dating coworkers, but I suppose he doesn't really count." She paused. "I wonder how Grissom would feel about it," she continued carefully.

Sara, if possible, turned even redder. "Why would he care?" she asked, refusing to meet Catherine's eyes.

"Sara, what is going on with you two?"

Sara's eyes snapped back to her face. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, things have been weird between the two of you for awhile, and I'd like to know why."

Sara shrugged. "He's _Grissom_, Cath. What do you expect other than weird?"

"Good point," Catherine replied, realizing that Sara was obviously going to completely avoid the issue. _God, she is so like Grissom sometimes._ "I just would hate to see you two in some sort of … fight."

"Why's that?" Sara's curiosity got the better of her.

"We're a team, Sara. We work together very closely. Sometimes, I think _too_ closely. Any argument or issues between two of us can hurt the whole team."

"Oh."

Catherine shrugged. "We're a great team. I'd hate to see that ruined because of something Grissom did to piss you off."

Sara sighed. "It's nothing, Cath. Really. We're fine."

And, suddenly, they were. In that moment, she realized that everything she had been upset with Grissom over was far too petty to jeopardize the team she had learned to love. While an apology seemed ridiculously out of line, she vowed to be kinder to Grissom. They could return to the collegial relationship she had come to know and appreciate.

Everything would go back to normal.

"Well, that's good to know," Catherine said. "I was getting worried."

Sara shook her head. "Sometimes, Cath, I think you're too good at your job. You're looking for evidence even before you see a crime."

Catherine grinned. "Hazard of the trade, I guess." She drained her glass. "Want another round?"

Sara smiled. "Sure. Why not?"

* * *

_October 2015_

When Sara wakes up, the house is quiet. Assuming Grissom has gone to the university, she doesn't even think to look for him before stepping into the shower.

When she returns to her bedroom twenty minutes later, Grissom is sitting on the bed. Sara, stunned to see him there, jumps and nearly shrieks.

"Gil! You scared me to death!"

"I'm sorry, honey."

She shakes her head as she continues into the closet to choose her clothes. "You could have said something to let me know you were here."

"Where did you think I was?"

"UNLV."

He glances at the clock. "I'm usually home by now."

"Yeah, but you got a late start, so I thought you might stay later."

"I didn't do my office hours today. I just taught my class and came home."

Sara emerges from the walk in closet holding her clothes and frowning. "Why not?"

"Because, Sara, we need to talk."

"Are you still worried about Anna and her hearing?"

"Yes, of course. Why aren't you?"

Sara pulls on her jeans and blouse. "I just don't think there's anything to worry about just yet."

Grissom shakes his head. "You're avoiding this, Sara. That's not going to make it go away."

"I'm not avoiding anything. I just think you're panicking without just cause."

"Sara, you're being unreasonable, and, worse, irrational. I know it was an isolated incident, but that's how it starts. She's just little; she wouldn't recognize the signs. We need to see them for her and to get her the help she needs."

"Griss –"

"Sara, believe me, I don't want her to have any of my problems. But, you have to understand that I've been there. I know what it's like to slowly lose your hearing, and to realize that you could lose it entirely."

"She's just a little girl!" Sara argues. "You were a grown man when –"

"That doesn't matter, Sara! If she can't hear, she can't hear."

"Griss, you're over-reacting! So, she slept through a phone ringing. She's always been a heavy sleeper. It's not a big deal."

"Yes, Sara, it is a big deal!" Grissom yells.

Sara stares at him, shocked by the fact that he has raised his voice to her.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I'm sorry that I'm so angry. But, Sara, you have to be reasonable about this. I have a genetic condition that affects my hearing – one that there's a very good chance I've passed on to Anna. I nearly went deaf because I was too afraid to seek the medical help I needed. I know that I was older, but that's not always the case. My mother went deaf when she was eight years old! With all the medical advances that have been made, there is no reason that Anna needs to lose her hearing. The only way that will happen is if we're too afraid to get her the help she needs."

Sara stares at him wordlessly.

"Sara, I nearly waited too long," he says, his voice lowering. "If I had waited even another six months, it would have been too late. When I think of all that I would have lost … I never would have heard you say that you love me." Pain fills his eyes. "I never would have heard Anna laugh. I never would have heard her call me Daddy. Sara … I can't even imagine how painful that would be. I don't want Anna to have to live with those kinds of losses."

Sara stares at him for another heartbeat, then reaches out and runs her fingertips over his cheek. "I'm sorry. You're right. I'm sorry."

Grissom leans forward until his forehead touches hers. "I'm sorry, too. I'm sorry that I yelled at you. I'm sorry that I got angry. But, Sara …"

"I know," she says quietly. "I know."

"And," he nearly whispers, "if it's true – if Anna _is_ losing her hearing … I'm sorry for that, too."

"It's not your –"

"Yes, it is my fault," he cuts her off. "It is. I'm so sorry."


	6. Emotional Healing

A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing! We're really excited about this chapter, and can't wait to see what you think of it! Enjoy!

I don't own CSI. Some inspiration and dialogue are borrowed from episode 403, "Homebodies."

* * *

_October 2015_

"Okay," Grissom says, hanging up the phone, "Dr. Jennings says she can get Anna in next week for a test. She can only do the preliminary work, though; after that, she'll have to recommend her to a pediatric specialist."

"If it needs to go any further," Sara says.

"Right," Grissom agrees, running his hand through his hair distractedly.

"Gil," Sara says, grabbing both his hands in hers, "I need you to listen to me. There is no guarantee either way right now. Anna could have a hearing problem, but she could also be just fine. So, to assume too much either way is …"

"Irrational," he says, smiling. "I know."

"Just because I'm over being irrational doesn't mean you get to start," Sara says. "I'm on your team now. We're a support system for Anna, and for each other. We need to stick together on this, okay?"

"Okay." He leans down to kiss her. "It always goes better that way, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," Sara agrees, kissing him again. "It does."

* * *

_October 2003_

"Hi, guys."

"Hey," Sara said as Grissom walked into the break room, where she and Nick were going over their notes from a case they had been working for over a week. "Where have you been all night?"

"Warrick and I have been working a homicide," Grissom replied. "A woman's mummified body was found in her closet."

"Wait, her _own_ closet?" Nick asked.

"Yeah," Grissom said. "A couple of genius kids heard that she had a fortune hidden in her house, but had been out of town for weeks … Long story short, they broke in hoping to rob her, but were caught by PD. When the uniforms searched the house, they found a chair holding a door closed and called us. Warrick and I found the body locked in the closet."

"Talk about skeletons in your closet," Nick said with a grin. Sara laughed.

"We think that the original crime was a home invasion. We think they locked her in the closet so they could rob her, but either forgot to let her out or assumed someone would find her. Unfortunately, she lived alone."

"How long was she in there?" Sara asked.

"We estimate a month."

"Wow." Sara's eyes were round. "Need any help? That sounds really interesting."

"Yeah, we can finish this later," Nick agreed.

"You can certainly finish that later," Grissom said. "But, Warrick and I have this. I need you to take a B and E in Henderson."

Sara and Nick glanced at each other and sighed. Grissom chuckled.

"It's not a punishment. Remember, every case is important."

"Sure," Nick said.

Grissom put the assignment slip down on the table between them. "Have fun."

"Oh, ha, ha," Sara said.

Nick winked at her. "Well, we can always play a car game on the way there."

* * *

_All this way for a false alarm._

An unsupervised party, teenagers out of control and concerned neighbors all added up to a drive to Henderson to be met at the door by an agitated father who told them they weren't needed. As Sara walked back to their waiting SUV – Nick was busy teasing the uniform who had accompanied them about an upcoming softball game – she thought that it could have been so much worse. While the family had plenty of work to do to clean up after the party, at least no one had been hurt.

Sara sat down behind the wheel and reached up to adjust her rearview mirror. As she did, she caught sight of the daughter who had hosted the party sitting in her backseat. She gasped.

"I need to go to the hospital," the girl said. "Please."

Sara turned around in her seat. "What's wrong?"

"Please," the girl said again.

"What's your name?"

"Susanna."

"Susanna," she repeated. "I'm Sara."

"Yeah, whatever. Can you take me to the hospital or not?"

"Susanna, do your parents know you're here?"

"My parents don't want to know what happened to me. I just … I need an AIDS test and a morning after pill."

Sara suddenly felt cold. "Were you raped?"

Susanna refused to meet her eyes. "Look, it just … things got out of hand. Will you take me?"

"Yeah," Sara said. "Just let me tell my partner where I'm going, okay?"

She nodded.

Glancing at her one more time, Sara got out of the car. Nick was still laughing with the cop.

"Hey, Nick, do you mind if I take off now?"

"You can ride with me," the uniform said at once.

"Thanks, man. What's up, Sara?"

"I don't care what Mr. Kirkwood says, something bad happened in that house," she said. "His daughter is sitting in the back of our SUV, begging me to take her to the hospital."

Nick's eyes darkened with concern. "What happened to her?"

"I think she was raped."

"Oh, no."

"Yeah. So, not to be rude, but it would probably be better if you don't come with me to take her."

"No, you're right. She'll definitely need a woman's touch."

"Yeah," Sara agreed. "So, I'll see you back at the lab?"

"Yeah." He glanced back at the house. "I have a feeling we'll be back."

* * *

"Hi, Sara."

Sara stood up as Naomi, a nurse she had worked with on several cases, came toward her in the waiting area. "Hi. Is Susanna ready to go home?"

"She's getting dressed."

Sara nodded. "Is she all right?"

"She was raped," Naomi said quietly.

Sara sighed. "I had a feeling. She said something about a party … I thought maybe date rape …"

"I don't know," Naomi said slowly. "It seems rather violent for that." She handed over the SAE kit she had collected. "I'm sure this will tell you more."

"Thanks," Sara said.

Susanna came down the hall, looking anywhere but Sara's eyes.

"Ready to go home?" Sara asked.

"Yeah," she said.

"Okay. Thanks again, Naomi."

"You're welcome."

* * *

Nick was working on evidence from another case when Sara joined him at the lab.

"Hey," he said, looking up from the microscope. "How did it go at the hospital?"

"Susanna Kirkwood was raped," Sara said. "And, not 'I had too much to drink and don't really remember what happened at the party' or 'I was roofied' raped. She was violently physically and sexually assaulted."

Nick exhaled and ran his hand through his hair. "I'll call Brass. We'll get a warrant to search the house."

* * *

Nick and Sara split up to search the house. Sara was bagging the contents of the kitchen trashcan when Nick came down the stairs.

"Hey, Sara? I need you to take a look at something."

"Okay. Just let me finish this."

Nick nodded and waited while Sara completed her task. Once she had sealed and labeled her evidence, she followed him up the stairs to the master bedroom.

"I found this table right by the closet door," he said, pointing out a coffee table.

"Okay," Sara said.

"It's chipped. And, if you turn it like this …"

"It got chipped on the doorknob," Sara said. Her eyes widened. "Someone was locked in the closet."

Nick opened the door and shone his flashlight on the inside, illuminating the blood on the door. "And tried really hard to get out."

"You're thinking ...?" Sara prompted.

"I'm thinking the parents were locked in here while the girl was raped on the bed," Nick said. "I've already bagged the sheets."

Sara nodded. "Nick … locking the vic in the closet … Do you think our case could be related to Grissom's?"

"I think there's a very good chance of that," he replied. "We need to find him when we get back to the lab."

* * *

Sara and Nick were carrying in bags of evidence when Grissom found them.

"Hey," he said. "I heard your B and E turned out to be more than we thought."

"Yeah," Nick agreed. "The sixteen-year-old daughter was raped. We found evidence that's similar to your mummy case. We think they could be connected."

Grissom's eyebrows shot up. "What did you find?"

"Can we show you?"

He nodded. "I'll get Warrick. We'll meet you in the layout room."

* * *

Half an hour later, the four of them were staring at the crime scene photos they had spread out across the table in the layout room.

"I really think we're dealing with the same guys," Nick said. "It's just too strange to discover two cases with these similarities practically within minutes of each other."

"It is strange," Warrick agreed with a bit of skepticism in his voice.

Sara shook her head slightly. It was time to play devil's advocate. "So, how do we know we're dealing with the same suspect?" she asked.

"We don't," Warrick replied.

"Table against the closet door … chair shoved under the knob … It is the same MO," Nick said.

Grissom nodded.

"Any connections between the victims?" Sara asked.

"Well, both were left alive, we think," Grissom said. "I mean, the old lady's death was probably unintentional, and the girl's rape was …"

"Crime of opportunity?" Sara suggested, her stomach turning at the thought.

"You're out to rob somebody's house, why would you do it when they're home?" Warrick asked, changing the subject.

"The difference between burglary and home invasion: infliction of terror," Grissom said.

"Yeah, it would have been terrifying," Nick said, his eyes falling on the pictures of evidence that their trapped victims had attempted to claw their way out of their closet prisons. "Bad guys leave … the fear just stays behind."

"All right," Warrick said. "So, say you're right, and we _are_ looking at the same suspects. How are we going to prove it?"

Sara looked back at the photos. She pulled one closer to her. "Is this … a piece of cake?"

"Yeah," Warrick said. "From what we can tell, our guy took a bite out of it, and left it on the old lady's counter."

"So, you have a bite impression from it?"

"It's setting up," Grissom replied.

"I have photos of a bite mark on Susanna's shoulder," Sara said. "We could compare them. If they match, we're dealing with the same guy."

"Okay," Grissom said. "I'll go finish with the cake. Sara, you isolate details from the bite marks. Nick, Warrick, start comparing the prints you lifted from the scenes."

"You've got it," Nick said.

"And, please, everyone keep everyone else updated. This is one time that we can't afford to forget to give each other every little detail."

* * *

Grissom came in with the bite impression as Sara was finishing her task of outlining each tooth in the bite mark on Susanna's shoulder. She shuddered slightly as she looked at the entire picture again for the first time since enlarging it. Thinking of individual tooth marks was easy; thinking of a hideous, painful bite on a teenager's shoulder was not.

Grissom sat down with Sara at the table in the layout room. She spread her work in front of them.

"How did it go?" he asked.

"Once I pulled details, I shrank it back down to a hundred percent," she said, putting her circle model over the photo of the bite to show him the details. "Here's the thing: it looks like the bite came from behind."

"Well, it was probably easier to subdue her in that position," Grissom said.

Sara fell silent, seeing in her mind Susanna being slammed down onto her parents' bed and bitten from behind. _How could something so terrible happen to someone so young?_

Grissom glanced at her, noting the look on her face. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Sara said in a tone that clearly screamed _no_.

Grissom chose to believe her words rather than her tone. It was easier that way.

He turned clinical again, putting Sara's detailed transparency over his photo of the cake. He described the alignment of the teeth. They had a match.

Nick and Warrick came in with the news that their partial prints had led to a suspect. Brass was bringing him in for questioning.

* * *

Their suspect's bite impression matched the cake and the bite on Susanna's shoulder. His DNA, however, did not match the semen taken from Susanna.

"He's working with a partner?" Sara asked, shaking her head.

"Well, a lot of criminals do," Grissom said.

"I thought we had this one," Sara said. "I thought we'd get justice for Susanna. I thought … we'd be able to make it better for her. To make some of the fear go away."

"We will," Grissom said. "We just need to find Steve Jansen's partner."

"He's not talking, is he?"

"Nope."

She sighed and ran her hands through her hair. "We've got to do something, Griss! We can't let these guys get away with doing this to a teenager."

Grissom looked at her for a minute, surprised by the conviction in her voice. He hadn't seen Sara get this worked up over a victim in a long time. "We'll solve this, Sara. We'll find a way."

* * *

He didn't know why it happened, but it always did. Every time Sara got too emotionally involved with a victim, Grissom would caution her to keep her distance. He'd tell her not to get too close. Not to care so much.

Yet, even as he told her to back off, he'd push harder. He'd work longer hours, go to greater lengths, do whatever it took to find justice for those same victims.

He knew that what he was doing was obvious. Both Nick and Catherine had commented before that he worked harder to prove Sara's theories than anyone else's – including his own. But, even so, he couldn't make himself stop. He couldn't help it. Sara was hurting, and he had to find a way to make her better.

And, so, he found himself standing outside the Kirkwoods' house, ringing the doorbell. Susanna opened the door, looking at him with nervous apprehension. He could understand why.

"Hi," he said, holding out his ID for her to see. "My name is Gil Grissom; I'm with the Las Vegas Crime Lab."

"Susanna," Mr. Kirkwood said, appearing from inside the house behind her, "Susanna, I said I'd get it." He took her arm and directed her back into the house. He looked at Grissom. "What do you want?" he asked shortly. "I already told the police, I have nothing more to say."

"I think you do," Grissom said. "And, I need you to speak for someone who can't speak for herself – another victim."

"I don't care about another victim," Mr. Kirkwood said. He glanced over his shoulder; Susanna was hovering behind him, watching their conversation. "Susanna, please."

She disappeared into the house.

"Look, we know two men broke into your house. We have one suspect in custody, but we can't hold him unless you talk to us."

"I can't help you. I'm shutting the door now."

"Mr. Kirkwood, I've done all that I can," Grissom said, wondering if the man realized how much that confession cost him. "I need what you saw."

"Mr. Grissom, do you have a wife? Children?"

"No," Grissom said slowly.

"Then you can't possibly understand how I feel. All I am to you is a folder in a drawer."

"And, if I had a wife and children?"

"You wouldn't be here. I can't help you."

The door slammed in Grissom's face. He stared at it for a moment and sighed.

_I've done all I can._

* * *

Grissom, Warrick, Nick and Sara were going over the possible suspects who could have been Steve's accomplice when Grissom received the page from Brass. His eyes widened as he read the short message.

"What's up?" Sara asked.

"Brass is putting together a line up," he said. "Susanna wants to ID her rapist."

Sara's eyes widened along with Grissom's. Nick's eyebrows shot up.

"Kelly James," Warrick said, looking at the pictures and notes on the board in front of them. "He's got to be our guy."

Grissom nodded. "I'll tell Brass to get him in the line up."

* * *

Grissom and Sara waited with Brass, the DA and the public defender as a uniform brought Susanna to them. She looked terrified as she joined them.

"Hey, Susanna," Sara greeted her.

Grissom looked at the terrified teenager, then at Sara. Understanding, Sara turned from him to Susanna.

"Um, why don't we go hang out until they're ready for us? Get a glass of water or something?"

Susanna nodded and allowed Sara to lead her to the waiting area. They sat down together.

"Do you want some water? Soda?"

Susanna shook her head.

"I'm really glad you decided to come in today," Sara said.

Susanna remained silent. Sara, too, fell silent. She had no idea what to say to comfort this girl.

"You want to hear something stupid?" Susanna asked.

"Sure," Sara said.

"My boyfriend and I have been talking about having sex for a couple of months. I always said no, because I was afraid my parents would find out."

If possible, Sara's heart broke even more for the girl sitting next to her. "You're not the only one to feel that way," she said. "I know I did."

"I guess it doesn't matter now, does it?"

Sara reached out and took her hand. "You're so strong, Susanna. You just need to keep being strong."

Susanna didn't say anything, but she held tightly to Sara's hand.

Brass walked into the waiting area. "We're ready."

Susanna refused to meet his eyes. "Can she come with me?"

"I already cleared it with the public defender."

Sara looked at Susanna and held her eyes as she nodded. "Are you ready?"

Susanna nodded. "Let's do this."

Brass led them to the line up observation room. He explained the process to Susanna while Sara stood behind her, offering silent support.

"Now, remember," he wound up, "you can see them, but they can't see you."

Susanna nodded. "He already knows it's me."

"Susanna, you can do this, I know you can," Sara said.

Susanna shook her head for a moment as she struggled internally. Finally, she nodded. "Okay."

Brass nodded to Sara, and they stepped back.

The line up began. Susanna stood still, shaking slightly as the first three men were called forward. It wasn't until the fourth man – Kelly James – was called that she reacted. She gasped and jumped back, shaking uncontrollably. Her hands clenched around the paper and pen Brass had given her to write down the number of the man who had attacked her.

She froze. She couldn't do it.

Tears spilled down her cheeks as she turned to Sara. "I want my dad," she said.

"Susanna –"

"I want my dad!"

"Okay," Sara said, holding out a placating hand. "Okay. We'll take you to him."

Once she was headed in the right direction, Susanna took off ahead of Sara and Brass. They followed behind and watched as her father took her into his arms. He led her away; Grissom, who had waited with him, looked at them.

"She froze up; she couldn't do it," Brass said in answer to his unasked question.

"Her reaction should be enough," Sara said.

Grissom looked at Brass. "What do you think?"

"Well, we've got enough to hold this Jansen kid, but, the other guy, unless she writes the number down, there's nothing we can do."

"So, that's it?" Sara asked. "We just let him go, and hope he doesn't do the same thing to some other teenager in some other house?"

"Sara …"

She shook her head in disgust. "What's the point of being in law enforcement if we can't enforce the law?"

Still shaking her head, she walked away.

* * *

The call came three days later. Susanna had been killed in her own driveway.

Because she had been shot during swing shift, they received the initial call. By the time Grissom arrived at the scene, the swing CSIs were already at work.

Sara was there, too, standing outside the tape, next to Susanna's parents. She stared at the girl's body, her mind swimming with the injustice, the horror of it. She felt Grissom's eyes on her, and looked up to meet his gaze.

The compassion in his eyes was more than she could bear. She picked up her kit, ducked under the tape, and, brushing past him, went back to her car. She climbed inside and sat in silence.

Her intention had been to collect herself and to go back to work. Instead, she felt tears gathering in her eyes. She didn't even try to fight it as they began spilling down her cheeks.

* * *

For the first time in a long time, Grissom found himself incapable of burying himself in his work. He spent his entire shift fighting to keep his focus on the evidence. It was difficult when he couldn't stop thinking about Sara.

Finally, finally, their shift ended. He heard her calling good night to Nick and Warrick as she walked out of the lab. She didn't pass his office; he had no idea how she was doing. Her tone gave away nothing of her emotions, and without seeing her, it was impossible to judge.

He spent only a moment in a state of indecision. If he were honest, he had made up his mind hours before. It was only a matter of following through.

He shoved his papers in his bag and pocketed his keys. It was time to leave.

* * *

He stood outside Sara's door for nearly a full minute before he knocked. It took her almost as long to answer.

"Grissom," she said in surprise. "What's going on? Do you need me at a scene?"

"No," he said. "I … I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Oh." She opened the door wider, inviting him in. "That's … sweet."

He smiled slightly as he stepped into her apartment. "Are you?" he asked.

"Am I what?"

"Are you okay?"

Sara looked at him, and saw the same compassion in his eyes that had been there at the crime scene – Susanna's crime scene. Once again, it was her undoing. Without warning, tears began to slide down her cheeks. Choking sobs followed a moment later, shaking her frame. Her hands shot up to cover her face.

Grissom had never been socially gifted. In situations such as these, he usually panicked. But, somehow, with Sara, he knew what to do. He closed the space between them and pulled her into a gentle, yet strong, embrace.

Sara slowly moved her hands from her face to his shoulders. She clung to him as she gradually stopped crying, giving in to the feel of his hands stroking her back and her hair, and the sound of the soothing words he whispered into her ear.

Feeling her tears end, Grissom pulled back enough to look at her, but kept his arms wrapped around her.

"Do you feel better?" he asked.

Sara nodded dumbly, unable to take her eyes from his.

Grissom looked into her face, noting the tear tracks on her cheeks. Unable to resist the temptation, he leaned forward and kissed first one cheek, then the other. Sara's breath caught in her throat. Her eyes fluttered closed; he placed gentle kisses on them, as if to kiss away her tears.

After a moment's hesitation, he leaned down to kiss her lips.

It was the softest kiss Sara could ever imagine, barely a whisper of his lips against hers. She wanted desperately to deepen it, yet was afraid to even try. It would break the spell of the moment, it would end everything that he had just begun, and it would be the end of their relationship – professional or otherwise.

Grissom slowly straightened up, but still kept his hands on her hips. He cleared his throat. "Sara, I'm sorry. I … I know it's inappropriate on so many levels, but I just … I really want to kiss you right now."

Sara smiled. "I think you just did."

He smiled and slowly shook his head. "I don't think that counts as a real kiss."

"Well … I'm fully willing to give you permission to give me that real kiss, if you'd like."

He smiled, but shook his head again. "No."

Disappointment flooded through Sara. "No?"

"When we have our first real kiss, I want it to be about _us_, not about comfort."

Sara's breath caught in her throat again. "You mean … You'd be willing to kiss me again? Another time?"

Grissom cleared his throat again. "I think we've got a lot to talk about. But, for now …" He moved his hand from her hip to take hers, gently squeezing it. "I'd just like for us to be together."

Sara smiled shyly. "I'd like that, too."

* * *

_October 2015_

Sara sits alone in the waiting room, flipping through an old issue of National Geographic without actually seeing it. She knows that they made the right decision. Dr. Jennings was adamant that only one parent could accompany Anna for her hearing tests. Sara knows that it only makes sense for Grissom to go. He has been through the tests before, and can explain things to Anna far better than she can. But, still …

She wants to be the one holding her little girl's hand. She wants to see the look in Grissom's eyes that shows he understands how she feels. She wants to hold his hand while they wait.

She hates to be alone.

"Sara?"

She looks up to see Grissom in the doorway. Anna is in his arms, clutching his neck. "Hey, guys."

"Dr. Jennings is ready to go over the results with us."

Sara gets up to join them. She rubs her hand over Anna's back. "How was it, sweetie?"

"I heard lots of beeps."

Sara smiles. "That's good … right?" She directs this last to her husband.

He shrugs. "We're about to find out."

Grissom and Sara are both nervous wrecks as they walk into Dr. Jennings' office, but she smiles at them. They sit down across her desk from her; Grissom arranges Anna in his lap. Sara reaches for Grissom's hand; he laces his fingers through hers.

"Well," she says, "I'm happy to report that Anna's hearing is just fine."

Grissom and Sara both release their breath in relieved sighs. They look at each other with beaming smiles.

"But, Sara's phone …?" Grissom asks.

"I had a college roommate who needed to have two alarms go off simultaneously to wake her," Dr. Jennings says. "Some people just require more effort and sound to wake up than others. How do you wake her for school in the morning?"

"I pick her up when I'm home," Sara says. She looked at Grissom.

"I shake her ankles."

"She's not used to waking up to sound; that might have something to do with it," Dr. Jennings says. "I'm not saying she's entirely out of the woods. We are talking about a hereditary condition; it could easily present later. But, the important thing is that you're being very vigilant with her. As long as you're watching and careful, I'm sure that, should she have any problems, we'll be able to save her hearing."

Sara turns to Grissom. "You were right to worry. I'm sorry for doubting you."

"Maybe, but I didn't need to treat it quite like I did. I'm sorry for overreacting."

Sara shook her head. "You were right, Griss."

"Well, you weren't wrong."

Dr. Jennings laughs. "If this is how you two apologize, I think your marriage must be very solid."

Grissom smiles into Sara's eyes and tightens his grip on her hand. "It is."

Sara smiles back at him. "Forever."


	7. Dating Game

A/N: Sorry about the delay! One of us was giving semester exams last week and got a little behind.

Thanks for reading and reviewing! Enjoy!

I don't own CSI, _Go Dog Go_, _Click Clack Moo_, My Little Pony or the _Desert Princess_.

* * *

_October 2015_

"Oo, Mommy! You're so pretty!"

Sara grins and leans down to kiss the top of Anna's head. "Thank you, baby."

Grissom looks up from the journal he is reading. His eyes glow as he looks at his wife. He puts the periodical aside and stands to wrap his arms around her. "Gorgeous," he murmurs.

He leans in to kiss her, but Sara leans away. Grissom looks at her in confusion, but she smiles.

"I'm not going to let you smudge my lipstick before we get out the door." She runs her hands down his chest and needlessly straightens his tie. "You look very handsome."

"Well, it's not every night I get a chance to take my beautiful wife out to a fancy restaurant and the theater."

"Can I come?" Anna asks hopefully.

"Not this time," Grissom says, releasing Sara so he can lift Anna into his arms. "You're going to stay here with Uncle Nick, remember?"

Anna nods. "I want to show him my new horses."

"He'll like that," Sara says.

The doorbell rings, and Anna squirms in Grissom's arms.

"I want to let Uncle Nick in!"

Grissom laughs and puts her down; Anna darts for the door with her father on her heels. She pauses and peeks out the window to be sure it is Nick on the doorstep before opening the door.

"Uncle Nick!" she squeals.

"Hi, baby doll," Nick says, tossing her up into the air before settling her in his arms. He walks fully into the house and smiles at Grissom. "Well, don't you look dapper?"

Grissom looks down at the navy blue suit that Sara always says makes her weak in the knees and smiles helplessly. "When Sara wants a fancy night out, I comply."

Nick laughs. "And, I'm here to help."

"Thanks for this, Nick," Sara says, joining them at the door.

"Not a problem," he replies. "Now, let's make sure I'm good on your rules. No snacks after 7:30, and bedtime is 8:30?"

"You've got it," Sara says. "Two stories before bed – let her read one to you, and you read one to her."

"I want to read you _Go, Dog, Go_," Anna says.

"Okay," Nick agrees. "As long as I get to read you _Click, Clack, Moo_."

Anna giggles. "Deal. Oh! I want to show you my new horses!"

Nick sets her down; she runs off to get her new toys. He looks at Grissom and Sara. "What is she talking about?"

"Her new My Little Ponies," Sara says. "A gift from Catherine the last time she was here." She smiles. "She has to show the cowboy her horses, right?"

Nick smiles. "I love it." He looks Sara up and down, taking in her little black dress and strappy heels. "And, Mrs. Grissom, I have to say that you look stunning this evening."

Sara smiles. "Thanks, Nicky."

Nick looks at Grissom again. "I still don't know what you did to deserve her."

"Neither do I," Grissom replies, looking at Sara with tender eyes.

Sara grins. "Nick's only brave enough to say that now that you're not his boss."

"True," Nick says with a laugh.

"I never would have fired you, Nick." Grissom glances at his watch. "Sara, we've got to leave if we're going to make our dinner reservations."

"Okay," she agrees. "I just want to say goodbye to Anna first."

As if summoned by her mother's words, Anna runs back into the room clutching her new ponies.

"Look, Uncle Nick!"

"Sweetie, Daddy and I are leaving," Sara says. She leans down to kiss her. "Be good for Uncle Nick, okay?"

"I will."

Grissom takes his turn to give her a hug and kiss. "We'll see you in the morning."

"Bye!"

Grissom and Sara exchange an amused glance at their daughter's lack of concern over their departure. Nick is already sitting down on the floor with her to play with her toys; they know she will barely notice that they have left.

"Quick, while she's distracted," Grissom stage-whispers to Sara.

Sara giggles. "Like she's going to care regardless."

Grissom ushers her out the door. "My dear, we are in for a lovely evening."

Sara grins and reaches up to touch his cheek. "I can't wait."

* * *

_October 2003_

"So, um, do you want a drink, or …?"

"Sure," Grissom agreed.

Sara smiled, relieved to have something _normal_ to do – something that would allow her a moment to process everything that had happened since Grissom had walked through her door. She gently pulled her hand from his and walked toward the kitchen.

"Um, I have milk, water, orange juice, beer …"

"Water is fine," Grissom replied, following her to the kitchen. He leaned on the counter while she pulled glasses from the cabinet and filled them with water from a Brita pitcher from her refrigerator.

"Sorry," she apologized as she handed him his glass.

Grissom frowned. "For what?"

"I don't know … I feel like I should have wine. Isn't that what most women would serve in a situation like this?"

"I don't know," Grissom said honestly. "I'm not concerned about other women, Sara. I'm here because I want to be with you."

Sara's heart warmed and expanded at his words. A glowing smile spread across her face like the sun. "I'm glad," she nearly whispered.

Grissom smiled and touched her cheek briefly. "Can we … sit down?"

"Oh, yeah," Sara said quickly, leading him to the couch.

They sat down next to each other, leaving nearly a foot of space between them. Silence fell as they both sipped at their water and fiddled with their glasses. Sara stared at her coffee table, wondering how they would ever manage to break this silence.

Grissom was the one to do it with a chuckle. Sara's eyes shot up to his face.

"Well, I've made a mess of things, haven't I?"

"No," Sara said empathetically. "No, this is exactly where I want to be."

"Shrouded in awkward silence?" Grissom asked with a wry smile.

Sara shook her head. "No." She put her glass on the table and reached for his hand. "I want to be with you."

Grissom exhaled and smiled. "Sara … we need to talk about this."

She nodded. "I know."

"There are a lot of factors to consider," he continued.

"I know," Sara said again.

"The biggest one is that we work together," Grissom said. "It's … um … against lab policy for members of the same team to date. I think it's even _more_ against policy for a supervisor and subordinate to date. So, if we're going to do this, we need to be … careful, I suppose."

"Griss … are you saying you want to date me?"

Grissom looked at her as if she had lost her mind. "Of course. I don't just walk around kissing every pretty girl I see."

Sara blushed and smiled. "I'm sorry. I feel like I'm three steps behind right now."

"Okay," Grissom said, setting his glass on the table next to Sara's. "Let me back up. Sara, I came here today to make sure you were okay." He exhaled. "In all the years I've been in charge of the unit, I've watched my people go through a lot of suffering with our cases. I've watched them break down at scenes and cry for victims. I've helped them through because they're my team and my friends. But, Sara, you are the first one I've truly _wanted_ to help through that. You are the first one I've needed to see after a case." He took her hand in his. "You are the first one I've wanted to turn to when _I_ needed help."

Tears gathered in Sara's eyes as she clung to Grissom's hand. "Griss?"

"Yes?"

"That kiss you mentioned before … Could I have it now?"

Grissom smiled and leaned in to gently press his lips against hers.

* * *

_October 2015_

Grissom tastes the wine and nods to the waiter. He nods back, and pours Sara's glass before filling Grissom's. He sets the bottle on the table.

"Your salads will be out shortly," he says, then disappears from the table.

Grissom raises his glass and smiles at Sara. "Thank you."

Sara smiles and frowns simultaneously. "For what?"

"For accepting my offer of a date all those years ago."

Sara smiles. "Which time?"

"You know what tonight is."

"Yeah," she says, smiling nostalgically. "I do."

* * *

_October 2003_

Grissom pulled back and smoothed a lock of her hair back from her face. "Listen, Sara … I'd love to keep kissing you, but …"

She sighed. She had been waiting for the _but_ since he had first hugged her. "Yes?"

"This is a huge step," he said. "Like I said before, if we don't keep this between us, our careers are on the line."

"I won't tell anyone," she promised.

"I know you won't. It's just … Sara, we work together unbelievably well. Our team is … exceptional. I'd hate to see that ruined if things don't work out between us."

Sara frowned. "What, exactly, are you trying to say?"

"I'm trying to say that I'd like for us to go on a date," Grissom said. "I want us to try it out before we decide we're going to _really_ date or start a relationship."

"You're asking me on a date?" Sara asked, disbelief apparent on her face.

"Yes," Grissom said. "Would you like to have dinner with me?"

"Of course. When?"

"Tuesday? We're both off that night; we won't have to worry about getting back in time to be at work."

Thrills shot through Sara at the idea of a date with Grissom that extended past the normal start time for their shift. "Perfect."

* * *

Time seemed to crawl past until Tuesday. Sara made it through each moment in a sweet agony that reminded her of the anticipation of Christmas for a child. Every time she saw Grissom at work, her heart would flutter. Excitement shot through her each time his eyes met hers. Each smile he gave her made her stomach flip.

Finally, Tuesday evening arrived. After spending far too much time getting ready – Grissom had told her to dress up – Sara felt ready for her date. She studied herself in the mirror, taking in her appearance critically. Burgundy dress, heels, silver jewelry, wavy hair, natural make up … She nodded and smoothed her dress across her stomach.

"You can do this, Sara," she whispered to herself. "You look ready to rock his world."

Giggling, she turned from the mirror in time to hear his knock on her door. She turned back to the mirror to check her hair one last time, then went to answer the door.

Grissom stood on her doorstep wearing a charcoal gray suit and holding a flowering stem. He smiled as his eyes traveled up and down her body.

"You're beautiful," he said.

Sara flushed. "So are you."

"For you," he said, extending the flower.

Sara smiled and took it. "Thank you." She lifted it for an obligatory sniff. "It's lovely," she said, studying the four blossoms that sprang from the single stem. "I need to put it in water."

Grissom nodded and followed her into her apartment. "It's called ixia," he said. He flushed slightly. "It's a symbol of happiness."

Sara finished filling a vase with water and looked at him. She smiled. "I'm happy to be with you tonight, too," she said.

Grissom watched as she trimmed the stem and put it into the vase. "My father was a botanist," he said. "I learned a lot about plants as a child."

"And the bugs that pollinate them, right?"

"I suppose so," he conceded.

Sara finished her task and smiled at him. "Thank you for the flower. And, thank you for planning tonight for us. I'm … I'm really excited about it."

Grissom's eyes met hers, locking with them for a long moment. He finally cleared his throat and broke the eye contact.

"We'd better go," he said.

Sara nodded. "Let me get my purse."

Grissom waited while she got her purse, then held the door for her, closing it securely behind them. He put his hand on the small of her back to guide her to his car. Sara grinned as he opened the passenger door of his vintage Mercedes for her.

"Nice car, Griss," she said appreciatively.

Grissom smiled, flushing slightly. "A teenage dream, fulfilled," he said.

"So, where are you taking me?" Sara asked as Grissom backed out of his parking space.

"Lake Mead," he replied.

"Well, that's specific."

He smiled. "I was hoping to surprise you."

"I'm not very good at waiting."

"So, it won't do me any good to remind you that patience is a virtue?"

"Not really."

Grissom smiled. "We're going on a dinner cruise."

Sara's eyes lit up. "Really? I've always wanted to do that!"

Grissom chanced looking away from the road to meet her eyes. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Sara said. "I read about it when I first moved here – I got all these books about Vegas so I wouldn't feel so out of touch. It's the _Desert Princess_, right? The boat?"

"That's right," Grissom said, smiling.

Sara grinned happily. "Sounds great."

* * *

The food was delicious, but Sara barely tasted it. She was too busy drinking in the sights of the lake out the window and the man seated across from her. As soon as they finished eating, she jumped out of her seat and grabbed his hand.

"Come on!"

Grissom laughed at her childlike enthusiasm. "Where are we going?"

"I want to go on the deck. I want to see the sights."

Grissom followed her, holding tightly to her hand. He loved the feel of her fingers laced through his.

Sara didn't stop until they were leaning against the rail at the end of the deck. To Grissom's great disappointment, she dropped his hand to put both of hers on the rail. She turned her face into the breeze, closing her eyes and smiling.

"I love this," she said, opening her eyes and turning to look at Grissom. "Thank you so much for bringing me here."

Grissom reached up to cup her cheek, caressing it briefly before sliding his fingers back through her hair. He let the wavy strands slip through fingers, then ran them through it again. Sara smiled at his touch.

"May I kiss you?" he asked.

Sara nodded breathlessly. As his lips landed on hers and his hands found her hips, pulling her closer to him, she knew that she had never had a more perfect evening.

* * *

Grissom held her hand as they disembarked. Sometime during their evening, it had become the most natural thing in the world for both of them.

"Thank you for planning this," Sara said again as they stepped back onto solid ground.

"You're welcome," Grissom said. "Do you want to go for a walk?"

Sara nodded, and let him lead her to the lake's sandy shores. She slipped off her shoes and carried them in the hand that wasn't holding Grissom's.

"Since you enjoyed that so much, I was thinking …"

"Yeah?" she prompted.

"Their champagne brunch is supposed to be very good," he said. "Would you like to try that with me sometime?"

"I'd love to," Sara said, giving him a glowing smile.

"So-o," Grissom said slowly, "you'd like to go on a second date with me?"

"Yes," Sara said, tightening her hold on his hand. "Very much."

"Good," he said, exhaling. "I'd like that very much, too."

Sara bit her lip. "Does this mean … What does this mean?"

"For now … it means we're going on a second date."

Sara nodded. She had been hoping for more, but … _Baby steps, Sara. You've waited this long. Just enjoy the ride._

"Remember, Sara, we can't talk about this at work," Grissom said. "It'll ruin us professionally."

"I know," she said. "I won't mention it. I promise."

Grissom raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. "I don't want you to think that I'm ashamed of you," he said. "I'd tell the world … I just don't think anyone would ever believe me. I certainly don't deserve someone like you."

"Shhh," Sara said, squeezing his hand. "You've got it backwards. _I_ don't deserve _you_."

Grissom looked utterly bewildered. "Sara, you're a young, intelligent, gorgeous woman with a brilliant future ahead of you. How could you not deserve better than an old man like me?"

"A brilliant man at the top of his field and his game who makes me laugh and smile," Sara said. "I'd say that makes you quite a catch."

Grissom blushed. "Thank you," he mumbled.

Sara giggled. "I'm lucky to be here with you right now."

"That makes two of us."

* * *

_October 2015_

"Did you know that night?" Sara asks.

"Know what?"

"Did you know that this was it for us? That in twelve years, we'd still be together? Married? Parents?"

Grissom smiles. "I had no idea," he answers honestly. "All I knew was that I wanted very much to have a romantic relationship with you – and that I was scared to death of it."

"Yeah," Sara says. "That much became apparent later."

"Sara …"

"I'm sorry," she says at once. "I didn't mean to bring up …"

Grissom shakes his head. "Ancient history, right?"

"Very." Sara reaches across to take his hand. "I love you," she says. "I loved you then, and I love you even more now."

"You knew?" Grissom asks. "That night?"

Sara nods, her eyes glowing. "I always knew. I just had to wait for you to figure it out, too."

"I'm sorry I made you wait so long."

She smiles. "I'd do it again. This – our life together … Anna … all that we have now … It is absolutely worth every agonizing moment of the wait."


	8. Confusion

A/N: I'm updating slightly early this weekend, since I'm going out of town (hopefully…stupid snow!) tomorrow.

We hope you enjoy this chapter! Thanks for reading and reviewing!

I don't own CSI. Some inspiration and dialogue are borrowed from episode 404, "Feeling the Heat."

* * *

_October 2003_

"Okay," Grissom said, winding up his staff meeting, "that's almost it. One more thing: Carvallo is currently looking for a member of each team to take on the position of Lead CSI."

"Lead CSI?" Warrick asks. "What's that?"

"Shall we say, third in command? The responsibilities include training new team members, scheduling, taking the lead when Catherine or I aren't at a scene … and generally doing anything the two of us don't want to."

"So, basically, being Grissom's bitch," Greg muttered. Archie coughed to cover his laughter.

"No thanks," Warrick said, leaning back in his chair. "I'm good with all the work you two pile on me right now."

"Wimp," Catherine teased.

"But, I'm a happy wimp," he replied with a grin.

Sara barely heard their exchange. She was busy considering the position and all it would entail. That she would apply wasn't even a question. She wanted it – very much. In many ways, it would make her something of a supervisor. Being Grissom's professional equal – or, at least, closer to it – would only make their personal relationship stronger. Maybe they wouldn't even face the rule-breaking that currently had Grissom so terrified. And, if Warrick wasn't even planning to apply, her chances of getting the position were very good.

Sara glanced up to see Nick looking at Grissom. His eyes were shining in a way that made her nervous.

Nick wanted the position, too.

* * *

_October 2015_

The paramedics are still on the scene when Sara and Greg arrive. They look at the CSIs with sad eyes and shake their heads.

"They don't usually look so sad," Greg says.

"I know," Sara agrees. "This can't be good."

Brass comes to meet them. He, too, looks sad.

"Hey," Sara says. "What have you got?"

"Vic is a toddler," he says.

Greg looks at Sara. "Are you going to be okay with this one?"

"Yeah," Sara says a bit too quickly.

"You're sure?"

Sara glares at him.

"Okay, okay," Greg says, holding up his hands in surrender.

"Where is the vic, Jim?" Sara asks.

"Right this way."

Brass leads them through the house to the baby's room. She is in her crib, face up and surrounded by her toys. She could be asleep.

"Madison Kent," Brass says. "Thirteen months old. Mother says she came to check on her and found her unresponsive. She called 911; paramedics pronounced."

"Bruises on the arms and legs," Greg comments as he observes the body.

"Kids fall a lot," Sara says. "She's probably learning to walk."

Greg shakes his head. "I don't know …"

"What?" Sara asks.

"I just have a feeling this one wasn't accidental."

"I'm going to get a statement from the mother now," Brass says. "I'll tell you more when I know it."

Sara nods, feeling a stab of pain for the woman. _No mother should have to give that kind of statement. _

She looks back at the baby, just barely stopping herself from brushing her hand along her tiny cheek. She looks so peaceful …

As she stares at Madison's cheek, Sara tilts her head to the side.

"What?" Greg asks.

Sara shines her flashlight on the little girl's face. "Her cheek … the skin looks … odd, doesn't it?"

Greg leans in for a closer look. "Scar tissue?" he asks.

Sara looks up at him. "I think you might be right about this one not being accidental."

* * *

_October 2003_

"Hey."

Grissom and Catherine looked up from the files they were reviewing to see Brass standing in the break room doorway. He looked very serious.

"Well, that's not a happy face," Catherine commented.

"We've got another baby in a car," he said.

"Oh, no." Catherine's face fell.

Grissom sighed. "Okay. We're ready when you are."

* * *

_October 2015_

"Hi, guys," David says as he joins them in the bedroom.

Greg is photo documenting and Sara is fingerprinting; they both look up when he enters the room.

"Hey, Dave," Greg greets him.

"Tough one," David says, standing over the crib and looking down at the baby for a moment.

Sara's head snaps up. She looks at the new father closely. "David … will you be all right with this one?"

He shrugs. "I have to be, right?"

"Sara and I suspect foul play," Greg says quickly. "No chance of that with Sammie, right?"

David smiles slightly at the mention of his daughter. "No, I'm sure if anything, she'll be protected to death."

"Yeah, I've been there," Sara says with a smile. "After awhile, you just have to sort of let them go and be there to pick them up when they fall."

"But, not this young," David says quietly, looking down at the still child again.

A moment passes before he can open his kit and get to work. Greg looks at Sara.

"Sara …"

"Yeah?"

"When David's ready, I'll go back with the body. You can stay here and process the scene."

Sara looks at him with questions in her eyes.

"With kids, it's hard no matter what," he says. "But, I think it's easier to be away from the body."

Sara nods her silent agreement. "Thanks, Greg."

He nods, hoping that his small gesture will be enough to help her through this difficult case.

* * *

_October 2003_

"Hey, Sara!"

Sara stopped her progress down the hall and turned to follow Greg back into his lab.

"You have my DNA results already?" She had only dropped the sample off an hour earlier.

"No," Greg said, his eyes shining. "I've got something even better!"

"What could possibly be better than DNA results in a rape investigation?" Sara asked.

"Gossip!"

Sara smiled tolerantly. "Okay. I'm listening."

"You applied for the position of Grissom's bitch, right?"

Sara flushed a bright shade of red. _If you only knew_…

"Hey, nothing to be ashamed of. Career advancement is career advancement, right?"

"Right," Sara said, nearly choking on the word. _Okay, I'm staring to get that policy about supervisors and subordinates_ …

"Well … Are you interested in knowing who your competition is?"

"Yes," she said quickly.

Greg grinned. "I knew you would be. Word on the street is that Nick applied."

"Cite your source."

"Nick."

"Okay, good source. Did you tell him that I applied?"

"I may have mentioned it …"

"Some secret keeper you are!"

"You never told me it was a secret! Besides, if you get it, everyone's going to find out you applied."

"Fair enough," Sara said, rolling her eyes. "Thanks for the info, Greg."

"I'm here to help."

* * *

While Brass futilely searched the glove box of the car holding the dead baby for a registration card, Grissom and Catherine looked into the backseat. The little boy was strapped safely into his car seat.

"When are parents going to learn that a car is not a babysitter?" Catherine asked.

Grissom shook his head and looked at the thermometer he was holding. "One hundred eight degrees outside."

"You want to document the inside temperature?" Brass asked, opening the back door for him.

Grissom nodded and slipped the thermometer into the car, then closed the door.

"How many of these have we had this year?" Brass asked as they all looked at the baby.

"I lost count after ten," Catherine said, shaking her head.

"This one makes twelve," Grissom said, exchanging a look with Brass. They both knew that Catherine would only count deaths such as these until she reached ten; after that, she refused to count another dead baby.

A man forced his way through the crowd, demanding to know what was happening with his car. Brass went to deal with him; Grissom took the thermometer out of the car.

"One hundred forty-five degrees inside the car," he said.

Catherine's face fell as she looked from Grissom to the young father. "What was he thinking?"

"He wasn't," Grissom said simply. He looked back at the baby and sighed. "I'll bet he was a 'good' baby. Maybe if he had cried a little more, his father wouldn't have been able to forget him."

Catherine shook her head again.

"Hey, guys," David said as he joined them. "Another of these, huh?"

"If it's not babies in cars, it's babies in swimming pools," Catherine said. "It's that time of year."

David conducted his examination, and declared the baby ready for transport. Catherine was about to lift him from his car seat when Grissom appeared behind her.

"I brought a sheet," he said. "With all these looky-loos, I think we'd better treat this like the baby's still alive."

Catherine looked at the large crowd just outside the crime scene tape and nodded. She pulled the baby from the car as though he were alive; she and Grissom wrapped him in the sheet. Catherine carried the baby to the coroner's van and strapped him in.

By the time she returned to Grissom, he was ending a phone call. She looked at him with raised eyebrows.

"Transport," he said. "They're on their way for the car."

"Good. Back to the lab?"

"Back to the lab."

"Hey," Brass said as he joined them. "I'm going to take the dad to PD for questioning. One of you want to come with?"

"You go ahead," Grissom said, nodding to Catherine.

"I guess it's just 'back to the lab' for you, then."

He nodded. "I'll start processing the blankets."

Catherine sighed. "Call if you need me."

"I will."

* * *

"Hey!"

Grissom looked up just in time to stop himself before running into Sara. "Sara, hi," he said. "I'm sorry. I didn't see you."

"No, I didn't think you did," she said, peeking at the report in his hands. "What's got your attention?"

"Just a case," he said, adjusting the report out of her line of vision. "It's … a tough one. A baby was found dead in a car."

Sara closed her eyes briefly. "Another one?"

"Yeah. Twelfth this year."

"Sounds like fun."

"Yeah," he said quietly. He shakes his head. "I just don't understand how anyone could do that to a baby."

Sara looked at him for a minute. "Listen, do you want to come over tonight?" she asked, lowering her voice to just above a whisper. "We can have dinner … just sort of chill out. De-stress."

Grissom considered her suggestion briefly, then nodded. "Yeah. But, why don't you come to my place? I'd like to cook for you."

"Okay," Sara said with a smile.

Grissom returned her smile, thinking of how much he wanted to take care of her. As their eyes met, a shiver of anticipation ran through him that he was sure had nothing to do with anything other than his basest desires.

He cleared his throat. "Um … I've got a case for you," he said, struggling to bring his thoughts back to safer ground. "Park rangers found a body floating in Lake Mead. I want you and Nick to check it out."

"You've got it," Sara said, taking the assignment slip from him. "I'll find Nick."

"Good."

"And," she said as she started backing away, "I'll see you later."

"Yeah," Grissom said, his voice lower than usual, "you will."

Grinning, Sara turned the corner. She needed to put some distance between them before she did something crazy that would get them both fired.

* * *

Nick and Sara had very little to go on. Their victim had been found floating in Lake Mead wearing a bikini top, board shorts, water shoes and no identification. The park ranger who had found her had dragged her to the nearest beach; they were also without a primary crime scene.

With so little to process at their scene, they took her back to the morgue rather quickly.

"Okay," Nick said as they walked down the hall to the morgue, "what do we know?"

"She's young – late teens, early twenties," Sara said. "She's tan, so she might spend a lot of time at the lake. Maybe we should get a picture of her to the vendors in the area; someone might know her."

"Good idea," Nick said. "We also know, due to the lack of foam in her mouth, that she probably didn't drown. Her head is gashed and her neck appears to be broken."

"So, she probably didn't die on the water," Sara said. "Why go through all the trouble to break her neck if you can just shove her head under water?"

"Good point," Nick agreed. He opened the door for Sara. "After you."

Sara smiled and went into the morgue, where their victim was waiting for them.

"Head or feet?" she asked.

"Feet," Nick replied.

"Works for me."

Sara began combing through the girl's hair, while Nick began a careful search of her skin. He looked up as Sara pulled something from her hair.

"What's that?"

"Green … something," she said. _Something for Hodges to worry about_.

"No birthmark. No scars. No tattoos," Nick said. _Nothing to help identify her_. He continued moving up and found a locker key in her pocket.

"I got a locker key," he said.

"You put in for the promotion, huh?" Sara asked. It wasn't that she didn't believe Greg, but she needed "official" confirmation.

"Yeah, yeah, last week," Nick said. "I still haven't heard anything about it."

"Yeah, neither have I," Sara said.

David came in, ending their conversation. Sara felt slightly relieved. If Nick hadn't heard anything, either, it meant that she hadn't been passed over – not yet, anyway.

* * *

_October 2015_

"Okay, we're ready," David says.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," Greg says.

Sara nods. "It's a big house; I'll need your help."

"I'll ask Langston to cover the autopsy if we can't make it back. Or, if Nick's around, I'll ask him to come here to help."

"Works for me," Sara agrees. "Thanks, Greg."

"You're welcome."

The men leave with little Madison's body, and Sara looks around the room. She takes in the toys, the pretty dresses, the framed pictures, and wonders what happened. She picks up a picture from the dresser. It shows Madison laughing in her mother's arms.

"Everything in this room tells me your parents adored you," she whispers. "But, your body tells me that you were abused. What happened? What went wrong?"

Shaking her head, she puts the picture down.

"Enough questions. I need some answers."


	9. Answers

A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing! We hope you enjoy this chapter.

I don't own CSI. Some dialogue and inspiration are taken from episode 404, "Feeling the Heat."

* * *

_October 2003_

"Grissom?"

Grissom looked up from the transcript of Brass' interrogation with the baby's father to see Catherine standing in his office doorway.

"Transport just left the car in the garage," she said.

Grissom put down the folder in his hands and took off his glasses. "Okay. Let's get to work."

* * *

Was it wrong that being at Lake Mead made her think of Grissom? As Sara looked out across the lake where their victim had died, all she could think of was standing on the deck of the _Desert Princess_ with Grissom, feeling his arms around her and his lips on hers. She shook her head to bring herself back into the moment. She wasn't with Grissom. She was with Nick. And, they weren't on a date. They were investigating the death of a girl who had likely been on a lake date of her own.

"Okay," Nick said, forcibly bringing her back to the present. "It looks like we need to talk to this Mark Young. Even if he didn't kill her, he's probably the last person who saw Sophia Renatta alive."

"Yeah," Sara agreed.

Nick looked at her for a minute. "You like him for this."

"Don't you? The jet ski rental guy said that they had obviously just met. We found her body, but not his. Even if we go with the idea that he had nothing to do with her death, why didn't he help her? Why didn't he try to save her?"

"Who's to say he didn't?" Nick argued. "He could be in the hospital right now, recovering from his injuries."

Sara smiled. "Okay, point taken. Let's just find him, shall we?"

Nick pulled the keys to their SUV from his pocket. "Your chariot awaits."

Chuckling, Sara followed him to the car.

* * *

"Nice car," Catherine commented as they walked into the garage.

"Very _clean_," Grissom said. "Aren't we under a water conservation mandate right now?"

"Well, if we are, no one told my neighbors," Catherine replied with a chuckle. "They have the nicest flowers I've ever seen."

Grissom shook his head, thinking that Sara would have a fit over the blatant lack of concern for the environment. He shook his head again, trying to bring his thoughts away from the woman he had held in his arms so recently. "Front seat or back?" he asked, forcing himself to focus on the task at hand.

"Oh, I'll take the back."

Grissom nodded his agreement, and opened the front doors of the car. He went for the passenger side first, and opened the glove box. Catherine opened the door behind him and looked at the baby seat.

"Car seat's fastened correctly," she commented. "Most aren't."

Grissom was only vaguely aware of Catherine removing the car seat as he searched the front of the car. It wasn't until she asked him to look at the back seat that he abandoned his task.

"What do you think?" she asked, gesturing toward the seat.

"Um … nothing," he said, observing perfectly clean, uncluttered, unmarked leather.

"Exactly," Catherine said. "There's no indentations in the leather."

"Well, maybe this isn't the primary vehicle for transporting the baby," Grissom said.

"Yeah, same thing the father said," Catherine replied.

Grissom looked down, and noticed several red drops on the floor. "What is that?" he asked.

"I don't know," Catherine said. She swabbed the stain and tested it for blood. "Negative for blood," she said.

Grissom sighed.

"What are you thinking?" Catherine asked.

He shook his head. "I don't get people."

Catherine looked at him closely.

"They obviously love their child," he said. "He has nice things … his car seat is properly strapped into the car … How could they just _forget_ about him?"

Catherine shook her head. "I don't know," she said. "But, I do know that you need to remove yourself from this case."

Grissom's eyes snapped to her face. "What?"

"You just worked a terrible case involving a child," she said. "You can't tell me that what happened to Susanna Kirkwood didn't affect you. To deal with something like that, then turn around and immediately jump into a case with a dead baby … I know you, Gil. It's too much. You need some time before you work another case involving a child."

Grissom blinked. "Cath … I …"

She held up her hand. "Don't fight me on this. Just say thank you, and go help Warrick with his case."

"You want to run this solo?"

"I can handle it," she said with a shrug. "I'll get Nick or Sara if I need help."

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure! Now, get out of this garage before I call security and have you removed!"

Despite the seriousness of the situation, her tone bordered on the teasing, and Grissom smiled slightly.

"Cath … thanks."

She smiled. "Anytime."

* * *

_October, 2015_

"Hi."

Sara looks up as Greg walks into the layout room. She has spread her crime scene photos across the table, and is reading Brass' notes on the mother's statement. "Hi," she says.

"Doc Robbins says he'll be ready for us tomorrow at the start of shift," Greg says.

"Works for me," Sara replies. "Listen, I'm noticing some inconsistencies in the mother's statement. Her timeline seems off with the one the paramedics provided. And, she never mentions that her boyfriend was there, but neighbors say that his car was in her driveway until about an hour before the paramedics were called. It all suggests that Madison's death was anything but accidental. Brass is getting her medical records for us; if there's a history of abuse, we'll be able to find it there."

"Sara …"

"Yeah?"

"Are you sure about this?"

"You were the one who first said her death wasn't accidental," Sara says. "Are you changing your mind?"

"That's not what I meant." Greg sits down and moves his stool so that he is in her line of vision, forcing her to look at him. "I can get Nick to work this case with me," he says. "You can help Catherine with her case. She's got a double."

Sara frowns. "Greg, are you trying to kick me off the case?"

"I don't want to kick you off," he says. "I just … I don't like the idea of you working a case with a dead baby, that's all."

"Greg, that's very sweet, but I'm fine."

"Sara, you can't tell me this isn't hard for you."

"Of course, it's hard," she says. "No one likes the cases with dead kids. But, Greg, someone needs to find justice for Madison. Someone needs to speak for her. And, I want to be that someone."

"You're absolutely sure about this?"

"Yes," Sara says firmly.

"Okay," Greg says, clearly still convinced that it is a bad idea for Sara to work this case.

Sara smiles. "I love you for your concern. I really do. But … I need to do this, Greg. You can understand that, right?"

"Yeah," he says with a slight nod. "Yeah, I can understand that."

"Good." She smiles. "Besides, I've got you working with me. I know you won't let me take it too hard."

* * *

_October 2003_

Grissom wasn't sure that helping Warrick was the best use of his time. The autopsy revealed that his victim had been electrocuted; Warrick only needed to find the source of the charge. Archie was very eager to help him, leaving Grissom an unnecessary third member of their team.

Rather than hang around watching Warrick and Archie search for a killer light switch, Grissom began on his paperwork. He had only made it through the first stack on his desk when he found Sara's and Nick's applications for the new Lead CSI position. He read them over and sighed.

It would be a difficult choice. Both were extremely qualified. Both were excellent members of his team. Both wanted to advance their careers.

And, his heart whispered, both were very special to him. Not in the same way, of course, but … Nick had been with him since he had first started his career as a CSI. He worked so hard, was so dedicated, so earnest … Grissom had a genuine affection for the younger man.

But, Sara …

Grissom closed his eyes, wondering how in the world he could even put into words all that he felt for Sara, or all that she meant to him.

He shook his head and put the applications back on his desk.

Nick and Sara were currently working a case together. Perhaps, Grissom's new-found free time could be a golden opportunity. He could observe them together, and see if watching them from the outside – as a supervisor, rather than a coworker – would help him make his nearly impossible decision.

* * *

"I can't find Mark Young, but I found his father," Sara announced as she walked into the break room, where Nick was eating a sandwich.

"Oh, good," Nick said. "Is he coming in?"

"He's on his way."

"Well, then, let's be on ours," Nick said.

* * *

Mr. Young was already at PD when Sara and Nick arrived. He looked very concerned – almost terrified – when they joined him in the lobby.

"Mr. Young?" Nick asked.

"Yes?"

"I'm Nick Stokes, and this is Sara Sidle. We're with the Crime Lab."

"What happened to Mark?" he asked before Nick could say another thing.

"Well, that's what we're trying to figure out," Nick said. "Does he like to go to Lake Mead?"

"Yeah, of course," Mr. Young replied. "All the kids do. Did something happen to him there? Did he drown?"

"We're not saying that," Nick said.

"Well, what _are_ you saying?"

"Mr. Young, your son was last seen with a young girl," Sara said. "We know that he rented a waverunner. Now, that young girl is in our morgue, and we don't know where your son is."

"I can't believe this is happening," Mr. Young said, clearly stunned. "Mark has a job. There's no reason for him to be on the lake during a work day."

"We contacted Mark's manager at work," Sara said. "He called in sick."

"What are you saying?" Mr. Young exclaimed. "That he killed this girl? What is this?"

"No, no," Nick said quickly with a sidelong glance at Sara. "No one's saying that. We're just … Mr. Young, when is the last time you saw Mark?"

"Yesterday morning. He came by, got something to eat, and he left. I mean, at this age, I can't keep track of him."

"Hey, believe me, I understand. I've been there," Nick said with a slight, understanding smile.

"Mr. Stokes, my son is not a criminal."

"We're not saying he's a criminal."

Sara wanted to roll her eyes. If Nick kept this up, they'd ever get the interview done. "All we're saying is that your son had contact with the victim and now he's missing. What we'd like to do is to get a warrant to search your house."

"A warrant?" Mr. Young exclaimed.

"But, maybe we don't need one," Nick said quickly, trying to smooth over the situation. "If we could just come by there and collect some of Mark's things, we could get a DNA sample, exclude him as a suspect …"

"You can take whatever you want. Mark didn't hurt that girl."

"And, this is how we prove it," Nick said. "We'll be by later this afternoon, if that's okay with you."

"Fine," Mr. Young said, standing up. "Are we done here?"

"Yes," Nick said. "We'll contact you if we have more questions."

Mr. Young nodded, then left them alone in the lobby. Nick turned to Sara.

"What was that all about?"

"I could ask you the same thing," she shot back. "Nick, his son is our lead suspect in our murder investigation. We can't sit here and hold his hand on this!"

"It's his _son_, Sara. His son that he obviously loves very much. If we come down on him too hard, he's going to clam up on us, and we'll never get anything from him."

"I just hope you know what you're doing," Sara said.

"Yeah," Nick said, looking at her as though he'd never seen her before. "I hope you do, too."

* * *

_October 2015_

"I've got Madison Kent's medical records," Brass says, holding the file up as he joins Greg and Sara in the layout room. He grimaces at the autopsy photos spread on the table.

"Have you read them?" Sara asks.

Brass nods. "It looks like our little girl was a victim of abuse."

Sara's face falls. "Oh."

"Her autopsy suggests the same," Greg says. He shakes his head. "I don't understand it. Aren't the doctors legally bound to report all potential abuse?"

"Yes," Brass says. "But – and this is the part that truly makes me sick – it would appear that Madison's abusers were aware of that, and made sure that all her injuries could be construed as accidental."

"That tallies with what Doc Robbins found," Sara says. "For example, twist fractures are very common in abuse victims, but she only has the sort of fractures you'd get from falling down."

"Exactly," Brass agrees. "I've called the mom in for questioning. She should be here in half an hour. Want to come with?"

"Yes," Sara says at once.

Greg looks at her. "Are you sure you want to do that?"

"Yes."

Recognizing the stubborn look in her eyes, he sighs. "I'll come, too."

He'll let her do it, but not alone.

* * *

_October 2003_

The green "something" that Sara had pulled from Sophia Renatta's hair turned out to be algae. Although Hodges was able to identify it and provide them with a map that showed where it could be found in Lake Mead, Sara and Nick found it to be less than helpful.

"This algae grows _everywhere_," Sara said, dropping her head into her hands as she and Nick studied the map Hodges had given them.

"A waverunner … point and throttle," Nick said, feeling as hopeless as Sara did. He sighed. "We have no idea where they went."

"Heard you guys narrowed your search area to forty-four square miles," Greg said from the layout room doorway. "That could take, like, _months_."

Sara glared at him.

"And, I'm sure you're here to shed some light on the situation," Nick said.

Greg walked into the room. "Your case is a boy-girl thing, right?"

"Right," Nick replied.

"Mm-hmm," Sara said, still mildly irritated with his jovial attitude in the face of their hopelessness.

"Body was washed up near Windmill Cove?" Greg continued.

"Mm-hmm," Nick confirmed.

Greg pointed to two coves on the map. "These two coves to the north – Cotton Wood Island, Tequila – huge make-out spots. But, nearly impossible to get to by land."

Sara couldn't stop the question. "And, how would you know that, Greg?"

Greg gave her a flirty smile. "A gentleman never tells." He winked. "Anyway, I thought that would be a good place to start. If you guys need an extra set of hands …"

"Uh, no," Nick said. "No, I think we've got it, boss."

Greg mouthed "call me" at Sara and held his hand up as if it were a phone. She smiled and shook her head.

"Poor guy," Nick said. "He's got it for you bad."

Sara blushed. "I don't know about that."

"Aw, look who's being modest," Nick teased. "Come on. Let's go explore Greg's make-out spots."

* * *

Greg's suggested route took them to the missing waverunner. They found evidence that Mark and Sophia had been there, and that they had walked up the hill. Following their footprints, Sara and Nick found a cliff that dropped straight into the water.

"That's got to be a fifty foot drop," Sara said.

"Yeah, but when you're young, it just looks like a whole lot of fun," Nick said.

"Not for Sophia," Sara replied.

"What are you thinking? That he pushed her in?" Nick asked.

"Makes sense, doesn't it?"

"Well, her footprints end here," Nick said. "So, whether she jumped on her own or was pushed, it's pretty safe to say she went over the cliff. And, if that's where she died … the evidence isn't up here. It's down there."

"We need search divers," Sara said. "I'll make the call."

* * *

Nick and Sara's divers found plenty of algae-covered rocks that could have broken Sophia's neck. They also found Mark Young's body.

"Oh, man," Nick said. "His poor dad."

Sara shook her head. "What's he doing down there?"

"Do you think we're looking for another person?"

"Well, when two people who just met wind up dead in the same place … it makes sense, right?"

Nick nodded slowly. "Let's see what Doc Robbins can tell us."

* * *

Doc Robbins confirmed that Mark Young had drowned in the lake. He also showed them Mark's burst eardrum, indicating that he had descended rapidly before drowning. Understanding dawned on Nick's face.

"She went in first," he said. "When she didn't come up, he got worried, and he jumped in after her. His eardrum burst while he was trying to find her, and the pain was too intense. He couldn't get up for air again." He shook his head. "This was an accident, Sara. He was trying to save her."

"That's a great theory. But, we can't prove that."

"Twenty-six feet under with a busted eardrum?" Nick asked incredulously. "If not to save her, why dive that deep?"

"I don't know," Sara conceded. "Case is over."

"Almost over."

She frowned.

"I want to get Mark's dad what happened. He'll want answers."

"Stick to the evidence, Nick. No sugar-coating."

Nick held her eyes for a moment. "I'll see you later."

* * *

_October 2015_

"Hi, Ms. Kent," Brass says as he, Sara and Greg enter the interrogation room. "These are two of our Crime Scene Investigators, Sara Sidle and Greg Sanders."

"Hello," she says.

"I know this is tough, but we have a few more questions about what happened to Madison," Brass says. "We're trying to put all the pieces together, and, I have to say, the picture isn't all the pretty."

"My daughter is dead," Debbie Kent replies. "How could that be _pretty_?"

"Well, it's just …" Brass began. "You told us that you found her unresponsive."

"That's right." She shakes her head. "You always think there's no way your baby could die in her crib until …"

"This wasn't SIDS," Sara breaks in. "Our coroner found that Madison's neck was broken."

Debbie looks at them with teary eyes. "What?"

"Her medical records show a lifetime of abuse," Sara continues, her voice becoming harder with each word. "Would you like to explain that?"

"Children … they fall a lot," Debbie says.

"Not when they're only a month old," Sara says, her eyes glinting with anger. "They can't _fall_ when they're only a month old."

Greg puts his hand on her arm and shakes his head almost imperceptibly. "Ms. Kent, did you ever do anything, either intentionally or unintentionally, to hurt your child?"

"No! I love Maddie! I'd never hurt her!"

"Tell us about your boyfriend," Brass says.

She blinks. "Jason? What about him?"

"Is he Madison's father?"

"Yes. We're not married, though … he's not ready for the responsibility."

Sara just stops herself from rolling her eyes.

"Does he live with you?"

"He did," she says. "Six months ago, I asked him to leave."

"Why?"

She draws a deep breath. "I didn't like the way he was being with Maddie."

"What do you mean by that?" Greg asks.

"He … he would punish her … harshly."

"Would he hit her?" Greg asks.

She looks down and nods. "That's why I made him move out. I didn't want her treated that way."

"Was he visiting last night?" Brass asks.

"Yes."

"Why didn't you tell me that yesterday?"

"I didn't think it was important. He was gone by the time I found Maddie."

"Was he alone with her yesterday?" Sara asks.

"Yes." Her tears spill over. "He – he tucked her in last night. She had been so difficult all day long, and I just … I needed a break. I didn't want to fight with her to put her to bed. So, he said he'd do it for me."

Sara, Brass and Greg exchange a look.

"What are you saying?" Debbie nearly screams. "Do you think he killed her while he was tucking her in?"

"We need to talk to him," Brass says.

"No! No, he couldn't! Maddie is his daughter! He has a temper, but he loves her. He loves her!"

As Debbie Kent dissolves into sobs, Sara's eyes fill with tears. She thinks of her own mother, and the pain that she endured – that they both endured – at her father's hands.

"Excuse me," she murmurs, standing up.

She needs to get out of the interrogation room. She can't take this anymore.

* * *

_October 2003_

Sara heard Nick's voice before she even saw him.

"I think he died trying to save someone's life," he was saying.

Sara turned the corner and saw him talking to Mr. Young.

"Thanks," Mr. Young said.

"No, it's my pleasure," Nick replied.

Mr. Young shook his hand and left the lobby.

"Hey, Nick," Sara said as she joined him.

He picked up his messages off the counter, then fell into step with Sara. "Hey."

"What are you doing?" Sara asked.

"What do you mean?"

"What did you tell him? That his son died a hero?"

"Look, I'm just trying to give the guy a little peace, you know?"

"Oh, well, who are you trying to help feel better? Him or you?" Sara asked.

"Hey, let me ask you something, Sara," Nick said, his irritation evident. "You're Mr. Young. Would you rather know this much or nothing at all?"

"You know, if the evidence doesn't support the answer, a CSI shouldn't be asking that question."

"Well, okay, if that works for you," Nick said.

Sara thought of Susanna. She thought of Pam Adler. She knew what it was like to get too attached to the victims. "Be careful," she said.

Nick walked away without answering.

Even as she continued walking, Sara couldn't help but feel concerned. Nick's heart was so big. She didn't want to see it broken by their job.

But, at the same time …

His big heart was exactly the reason she should be promoted over him. She could detach now. She had learned to play by Grissom's rules. She was the better candidate.

She couldn't wait to get the good news.

* * *

_October 2015_

"Are you okay?"

Sara looks up from her spot sitting on the sidewalk outside PD to see Greg standing over her. "Yeah," she replies.

Greg sits down next to her. "Do you want to talk?"

Sara shakes her head. "I … I really just want to go home, if it's all the same to you."

"Yeah," he agrees. "I'll drive you back to CSI so you can get your car."

She nods. "Thanks."

"Do you want me to drive you the whole way home? Or, to call Grissom so he can come and get you?"

Sara shakes her head. "Anna's still asleep; I don't want him to have to wake her up early just to pick me up. I'd rather drive myself anyway. It'll help me clear my head."

"If you're sure."

"I'm sure."

"Okay. Let's go back to CSI."

* * *

_October 2003_

At the end of their shift, Sara and Grissom both rushed out of the lab. Sara drove home quicker than she had in ages, nearly ran into her apartment and dove straight into the shower. She had to get ready for dinner at Grissom's place.

Grissom stopped at the grocery store on his way home. He was planning to make Sara eggplant parmesan, and wanted to make sure he had all the ingredients.

Once home, he straightened up his already clean house, then got to work on their food. The house was just beginning to smell like an Italian restaurant when he heard Sara's knock on the door. Grinning, he went to let her in.

"Hi," he said as he opened the door.

"Hi," she replied. She held out a bottle of red wine as she crossed the threshold. "I thought I'd contribute something to our meal."

Grissom smiled and took it from her. "Thanks. This will be perfect."

"It smells great in here," Sara said, following him into the kitchen.

"Eggplant parmesan," he said. "You like it, right?"

"I love it."

Sara watched as he put the wine on the counter. He was going to get a corkscrew when his eyes caught hers. Realizing that he couldn't wait another moment, he put his hands on her hips and pulled her to him. He leaned down as if to kiss her, but paused.

"May I kiss you?" he asked, his voice just above a whisper.

"No," Sara whispered. "I'm going to kiss you."

Grissom barely had time to register her words before her lips landed on his. Everything that had happened – the dead baby, negligent parents, trying to decide which CSI to promote – flew out of his head. All that mattered was that she was in his arms, kissing him senseless.

When he was with Sara, the day seemed to melt away.

* * *

_October 2015_

When Grissom woke up, he was alone in bed. He sighed, thinking that Sara had clearly not had the easy shift she had been anticipating. He took a quick shower, then went to start breakfast before he had to wake Anna for school.

As he passed Anna's bedroom, he was surprised to see the door wide open. He remembered closing it almost completely the night before; Anna always had a hard time falling asleep when she could still hear him or Sara awake in the house. Frowning, he stepped into her room.

Anna was sound asleep in her bed, clutching the stuffed bear that she had received as a gift from Greg when she had been born. She was not, however, alone in her room. Sara was sitting on the floor beside her bed, her knees drawn up under her chin and arms wrapped around her legs.

"Hey," he whispered.

Sara looked up at him with haunted eyes. Without a word, she stood and walked into his open arms.

Grissom held her tightly, trying to dispel whatever horrors had been a part of her night. Once she stopped trembling, he directed her out of Anna's room.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked as he closed Anna's door again.

"Dead baby," she whispered.

"Oh, Sara."

"She was only thirteen months old," she said. "Her father was abusive."

"Honey …"

"Gil, I love you," she said, her tears finally spilling over. "You are the most wonderful man, the most wonderful father and husband … I don't know how I can be so lucky."

Grissom pulled her into his arms again. "I love you, too, Sara. And, I love Anna. You two are my heart and soul, and I'd be lost without you. I could never do anything to hurt either of you." He pulled back enough to look into her eyes. "Sara, you deserve this. Our marriage, our daughter, our home, our life together – you deserve it all. Luck had nothing to do with it. Someone like you, with such a big heart … it was meant to be shared and loved."

She leaned up to kiss him. "I love you," she said again. "You are the reason I can make it through cases like this. I always know that I can come home to you at the end of the day, and that you'll make me feel like there's some good in the world."

"There is plenty of good in the world," Grissom said. "If you need further proof of that, go back into Anna's room." He smiled and ran his the back of his fingers down Sara's cheek. "She's my faith in humanity come to life."

"I don't know what I'd do without either one of you."

Grissom kissed her again. "You'll never have to find out."


	10. Compartmentalizing

A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing! Enjoy!

I don't own CSI.

* * *

_October 2015_

"Hi."

Sara looks up in surprise as Grissom walks into the living room. "Hi," she said. "What are you doing here?"

He chuckles. "Is that any way to greet your husband?"

"I'm sorry, dear," Sara replies with a slightly sarcastic smile. "I mean, what are you doing here in the middle of the afternoon on a Thursday? Don't you have office hours?"

"I cancelled them," he explains. "I'm leaving tomorrow for that conference in Sacramento, so I thought I'd go with you to pick up Anna today."

"Oh," Sara says. "If you want some time with her, you can go by yourself. I'll be here when you get home."

"No, no," Grissom says quickly. "I want you to come. I thought the three of us could go out."

"Oh-o," Sara says. "A little goodbye celebration?"

"Yes," Grissom says, knowing that his answer is simultaneously honest and dishonest. While he does want to spend one last evening with his girls before leaving for his trip, he also thinks that Sara needs some time with her family to help dispel the horror of her recent case.

"So, what do you have planned?" Sara asks.

"That, my dear, is a surprise."

* * *

_October 2003_

Grissom finally managed to detach his lips from Sara's. He gave her a slightly embarrassed smile, and resumed his search for a corkscrew to open the wine she had brought for dinner. Sara smiled shyly at him and sat down on one of the barstools at the bar that separated the kitchen from the living room.

"So…" Sara said, clearing her throat. "How was work?"

Grissom smiled as he pulled the cork from the bottle and poured them each a glass of wine. "Uneventful."

Sara frowned slightly. "What about your case with the baby?"

"Catherine kicked me off it."

"What?"

"She didn't want me dealing with another child so soon after Susana."

"That was very kind of her."

"I know. So, I tried to help Warrick with his case, but he didn't really want me there."

"Poor baby," Sara teased. "So, what did you do with your night?"

_Watched you and Nick, trying to figure how who I should promote._ He'd never say that to her. "I caught up on my paperwork."

"Sounds like fun."

"Well," he said with a smile, "I did have thoughts of this dinner to cheer me up."

A bright smile lit up Sara's face. She reached across to touch his cheek. "That's really sweet, Griss."

"It's true."

Sara held her breath, waiting for him to kiss her. To her disappointment, he cleared his throat and turned to the stove.

"Everything's ready. Shall we?"

Sara nodded, fighting the feeling that she had been denied a very special treat. "How can I help?"

Grissom passed her the bottle of wine, silently asking her to carry it to the table. She took it with one hand and her wine glass with the other, and followed him to the dining room.

"So," Sara said as they sat down at the table, "Greg was flirting with me today."

Grissom's head came up in surprise. "You mean, he was harassing you?"

"No!" Sara shook her head, knowing Grissom was already mentally pulling a sexual harassment form out of a drawer in his office. "No, nothing like that! He was just … Grissom, right now, I'm don't want to talk to my boss, okay? I want to talk to my boy- to the man who invited me over and made me dinner," she quickly corrected.

She blushed, hoping he hadn't noticed her slip. Although she thought of him as her boyfriend, they hadn't discussed labels. She wasn't sure she wanted to have that discussion. It would hurt too much if he didn't think of her the same way she thought of him.

He smiled. "I'm sorry. This is … well. It's all very new to me. It's sort of … I remember what it was like when you first came to Las Vegas. I think there was a definite adjustment period as we went from being in a teacher / student, long-distance friend relationship to being coworkers. It's sort of like that again. This time, we're going from coworkers to …"

"Something more," Sara said, her voice just above a whisper.

Grissom's smile was full of promise. "Something more," he agreed quietly.

* * *

_October 2015_

"Hello, Sara."

Sara turns to smile at Tracey, the mother of one of Anna's classmates. While not close friends, they chatted on a nearly daily basis while waiting for their children.

"Hi, Tracey," Sara replies. "Do you know my husband?"

"No," Tracey says with a smile, extending her hand. "Tracey Williams."

"Gil Grissom," Grissom replies, shaking her hand.

"Tracey is Isabella's mother," Sara explains.

"Oh, right," Grissom says. "She was at Anna's birthday party last year, right?"

"That's right," Tracey says with a smile. "Isabella and Anna have been in the same classes starting in preschool."

"Mommy!"

Both women look up to see their little girls coming toward them. Anna's face lights up with a beaming smile that is so like Sara's that Grissom can never help smiling when he sees it.

"Daddy!"

He laughs and catches her as she jumps into his arms. "Hi, lady bug. How was school?"

"Why are you here?" she asks rather than answering.

Grissom looks at Sara and raises an eyebrow. Sara laughs.

"You two are far too much alike," he says as he sets Anna on the ground.

Sara laughs again. "Daddy wants to take us on an adventure, sweetie."

"Oh-o," Anna breathes. "Where?"

"He says it's a surprise."

"But, we're going to have to hurry," Grissom said. "Do you have all your things?"

"Yes."

"Okay, then. Let's go!"

Anna waves goodbye to Isabella, then takes each of her parents' hands, swinging their arms as they walk to the car. Once they get to the car, Sara makes sure Anna is properly buckled in, then climbs into the passenger seat next to Grissom. He smiles at her, then glances at Anna in the rearview mirror.

"Are you ready?" he asks.

"Yeah!" Anna exclaims.

Grissom smiles. "Mommy?"

She smirks at him, knowing that he knows that it irritates her when he calls her that. "Let's go."

* * *

_October 2003_

"Let me clean up," Sara volunteered after they had finished dinner.

"Don't be silly. You're my guest," Grissom replied.

"At least let me help."

"Okay." Grissom smiled at the way she smiled at the compromise. "But you can only _help_, Sara, not take over."

"Take over? Me?"

Grissom chuckled. "Yeah, imagine that."

Sara smiled and stacked their plates to carry to the kitchen. "I will obey your every command."

"If only," Grissom teased.

Sara raised an eyebrow. "Work or personal?"

"Both."

She shook her head and smiled. "Uh-uh. No work away from work."

"No work away from work," Grissom repeated. He smiled. "Could be difficult."

"It could," Sara conceded. "But, I think we can make it work."

Grissom smiled, and Sara suddenly felt weak in the knees. "Yeah," he agreed, his voice dipping into a lower than normal octave, "I think we can, too."

* * *

_October 2015_

They have only driven a few miles from the school when Sara realizes where they are going. Anna, chattering away about her day, is oblivious to her father's intended destination. It isn't until they are only moments away that she realizes where they are.

"Daddy! Are we going to the museum?"

Grissom smiles indulgently as he glances at her in the rearview mirror. "Yes, Anna Banana."

She squeals with happiness. "We can talk in the tubes! And take pictures of our shadows!"

Sara glances at the clock. "We don't have much time. The children's museum closes in an hour."

"I know," Grissom says. "But, she loves it …"

Sara smiles and touches his arm. "You're a good dad."

He glances at her and returns the smile. "And, you're a good mom."

* * *

Tired from her day at school, Anna plays out quickly. As she starts to get cranky, Sara glances at her watch.

"The museum's going to close soon," she says. "Should we get something for dinner?"

"I thought we could go out," Grissom says.

"I wanna stay here," Anna whines.

"No, you don't," Sara replies. "You're tired, and you need something to eat."

"No!"

Before she can begin a full-scale temper tantrum, Grissom lifts Anna into his arms.

"We need to have dinner," he whispers in her ear. "I want to take you to Venice. We'll eat at one of the restaurants there, then we'll go on the gondola. Is that okay?"

Anna nods against him, as he had known she would. She loves to go to the Venetian Hotel.

"Okay, then. Let's go back to the car."

She nods again, and Sara sighs with relief. She may be good at calming Anna down once she's in an emotional fit, but Grissom is far better at heading one off at the pass.

"To the Venetian, then?"

Grissom nods at her. "To the Venetian."

* * *

_October 2003_

Grissom reached past Sara to put the last of the dishes away. She held her breath as his arm slid around her lower back. She turned to look at him, and their eyes locked.

"Griss," she whispered.

Grissom looked into her eyes for a moment longer, then kissed her. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he grabbed her hips and pushed her back against the counter, kissing her deeply. She moaned and he broke the kiss to look at her. He brushed a lock of hair back from her face.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered.

Sara blushed and, unable to think of anything to say, kissed him again. Once again, he began to move, directing her, breaking the kiss at small intervals to make sure his steps were leading them to his intended destination.

Sara truly had no idea where they were going until she realized that Grissom had taken her to his bedroom. She gasped as the backs of her knees hit his bed; she collapsed onto it. Grissom followed her down, his lips finding hers again.

As he settled himself on top of her, his lips and fingers making her moan, Sara could hardly believe what was happening. She was making out with Grissom. How many times had she imagined it?

The saddest part of a fantasy is that reality never tends to live up to it. In this case, however, Sara found that reality put her fantasy to shame.

She moaned and pulled him even closer.

Grissom responded instantly, his hands sliding up under her shirt. "Sara," he moaned. "God, I want you …"

Sara abruptly stopped. She pulled away from him, and put her hands against his chest, shoving until he sat up.

"What's wrong?" he asked, looking at her in confusion.

Sara bit her lip. "Griss … I think … I don't want to do this tonight."

"What?" he asked. "What do you mean?"

"I mean … Look, we were just out there talking about how hard it's going to be for us to separate the professional from the personal. This is all so new, and so fragile, and so … I just … I don't want to wreck it by sleeping with you tonight."

"Sara, believe me, I won't think any less of you," Grissom said.

"That's not entirely what I'm worried about."

"But, it's part of it."

"Yeah," Sara acknowledged, looking down.

Grissom grabbed her chin and tipped it up, forcing her to meet his eyes. "I will _never_ think any less of you. You are a wonderful, talented, intelligent, funny, warm, compassionate woman, and I care about you very much. No matter what our relationship, I'll always think of you that way."

His words, so sweet and so obviously straight from his heart, brought tears to her eyes. Sara blinked, refusing to let them fall.

"If you want to wait, that's fine with me," Grissom said.

"You're sure?"

He nodded. "I'm sure. We have all the time in the world."

Sara leaned across to give him a chaste kiss. "Thank you."

He smiled and let her hair slip through his fingers. "I want you to be happy, Sara."

She smiled and leaned her forehead against his. "I am. Just being with you like this … I am."

* * *

_October 2015_

The drive from the Venetian to their house isn't more than half an hour in good traffic. In the traffic they encounter, however, it is much longer. By the time they arrive at home, Anna is sound asleep. Grissom lifts her from the car, and carries her to her bed.

When he returns to the living room, he finds that Sara has opened a bottle of white wine, poured them each a glass, and turned on some soft jazz. He smiles.

"What's all this?"

Sara smiles back. "You got to surprise me all afternoon. It's my turn to surprise you."

He smiles. "I think I like this surprise."

She crosses to him and wraps her arms around his neck. "Dance with me?"

Grissom smiles and kisses her cheek. "I'd be honored."

They begin to sway in time to the music, gradually dancing closer and closer to each other. Once she's close enough, Sara rests her head on his shoulder. Grissom kisses along her hair line until Sara lifts her head to look at him.

"Hi," she whispers.

"Hi," he replies.

No more words are exchanged as he begins kissing her. Sara knows exactly what he wants, and breaks away long enough to turn off the music and the lights while he grabs the wine.

"Come on," he says, taking her hand. "We can continue this in the bedroom."

Sara smiles and leans up to kiss him. "Your wish is my command."

He chuckles. "I think that might just be my wish."

"Well, for tonight, it's granted."

He groans. "Come on, Sara. That bedroom is waiting for us."

Giggling, she runs up the stairs with him on her heels.


	11. Separation

A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing! Enjoy!

I don't own CSI. Some inspiration and dialogue are taken from episode 406, "Jackpot."

* * *

_November 2003_

"Hey, Griss, can you look at something for me?"

"Sure," Grissom replied, changing the direction of his steps to join Nick in the layout room.

"Look at this," Nick said, indicating the blood spatter on the sweatshirt he had spread out on the table.

"Cast off," Grissom replied.

"Right," Nick agreed. "The owner of the sweatshirt claims he was standing behind the as of yet unidentified knife-wielding assailant at the time of the murder. But, it seems more like he was the one doing the stabbing, doesn't it?"

"If he was standing right behind the assailant, how could your murderer still be unidentified?"

"He claims the guy was wearing a mask."

"Yeah, I'm sure he was," Grissom said sarcastically.

His phone beeped, interrupting their conversation. Grissom picked it up, and pressed the button to read his text message from David.

_Doc just received a perishable package. Size suggests a head_.

"Sorry, Nicky," Grissom said. "I'm needed in the morgue. But, have Catherine take a look at the spatter pattern. She's the expert."

"Sure," Nick replied. "Thanks."

With one last glance at Nick's evidence, Grissom left the layout room. He felt a something like a little boy as he hurried through the lab to the morgue. Perishable packages were always an adventure.

He arrived just as Doc Robbins was pulling the lid from the bucket containing, as David had guessed, a human head. Grissom slid to a stop next to his friend.

"I heard you got some head," he teased.

"Just came in," he replied, ignoring the baser subtext. "How did you know?"

"I arranged house seats for David to see Celine, so he pages me the minute you get anything perishable."

"Sell out."

Doc Robbins pulled the head from its formaldehyde-filled bath, and they made initial observations. A long, deep cut on the man's cheek proved that he had been murdered, but they could not definitively say much else.

"Who sent this to you?" Grissom asked.

"The coroner in Jackpot, working on orders from the county sheriff," Robbins replied.

"Jackpot? Where's that?"

"Way out. Definitely an over-nighter."

"Well, it looks like I'll be gone a few days, then."

Robbins raised his eyebrows. "What do you mean? You want to go to Jackpot?"

"Someone has to, right? We've got a murder victim sitting in our morgue. This is what we do, Albert. Solve murders."

"Yes, but, generally, they're a bit closer to home. There are plenty of cadets you could send up there to help local law enforcement."

"Come on, Doc. Where's your sense of adventure?"

"I get plenty of adventure right here."

Grissom smiled. "I'll send you a postcard."

"Yes, well, I'll send you all the information I can get from this head," Robbins replied, pulling his glasses on to begin his examination.

"Thank you," Grissom said as he left the morgue.

"Oh, think nothing of it."

* * *

_November 2015_

"Why do you have to leave?"

"Because I have to talk to a group of scientists," Grissom explains.

Anna's lower lip trembles. "I want you to stay here with me."

"I know, lady bug." Grissom hugs his little girl tightly. "I'll miss you very much."

Anna nods against him.

"I'll bring you a present from Sacramento," Grissom adds as a peace offering. "You'll like that, won't you?"

"Yes," Anna sniffles.

"And, you'll be a good girl and help Mommy while I'm gone, won't you?"

"Yes," she says again.

"Good." Grissom kisses her little cheek and releases her. "I love you, Anna."

"I love you, too, Daddy."

He taps her nose with his finger, then straightens up to meet Sara's eyes. She smiles.

"I'll miss you," she says.

He smiles. "You know I'll miss you."

He opens his arms and envelops her in a warm embrace. "I love you," he whispers against her hair.

"I love you, too."

He pulls back enough to kiss her. "I'll see you in four days."

Sara kisses him again. "Be good. No flirting with any conference attendees."

"I only did that once," he replies with a wink.

Sara gives him a mischievous smile. "How did that work out for you?"

"Pretty well," he replies. "I got her number."

"You're a lucky guy."

"I know." He kisses her one last time. "Okay, girls. You take care of each other."

"We will," Anna says seriously.

Grissom grins and blows them a kiss before picking up his carry-on bag and heading through airport security. Anna blows a kiss back, and waves until they can't see him anymore. Once he's gone, she turns to look up at Sara.

"What do we do now, Mommy?"

"Now, we go home and have dinner," Sara replies. "What would you like to eat?"

"Macaroni and cheese."

Sara smiles, knowing it to be her daughter's current favorite dinner. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Can I have chocolate milk, too?"

"Sure," Sara agrees, taking her hand to lead her out of the airport. "How about some broccoli, too?"

"Okay," Anna agrees only slightly reluctantly.

Sara smiles. "Come on, baby. Let's go home."

* * *

_November 2003_

"Catherine!"

Catherine stopped and turned to see Grissom coming down the hall toward her. "Hi," she said a bit cautiously. She didn't altogether trust the look of excitement in his eyes.

"I need you to take the shift for a few days."

"Why?" she asked, her guard leaping up.

"A coroner sent Al a disarticulated head. I want to find out what happened to pull it from its body."

"So, you're going to a crime scene?"

"An out of town crime scene that we haven't found yet."

Catherine sighed. "And you're leaving …?"

"As soon as possible."

"And you're taking …?"

"I'm going alone," Grissom said. "I'll let you keep the team."

Her eyebrows shot up. "You're sure about that?"

"I'll be fine."

"Okay," she said, obviously unconvinced. "If you need anything …"

"I'll call you." He smiled at her. "Thanks, Cath. I'll see you when I get back."

He rushed past her, and she shook her head. After watching him go, she decided a trip to the morgue was in order. She needed to see what had Grissom so excited.

Grissom, for his part, continued to the locker room. He thought he had enough things in his locker that he wouldn't need to go home before leaving for Jackpot.

To his surprise, Sara was standing at her locker, putting her bag of toiletries away.

"Hi," he said.

She looked up and smiled. "Hey. You're lucky you weren't here fifteen minutes ago; I smelled pretty awful. I had to take a shower after I went dumpster diving."

Grissom made a face. "Sounds like fun."

"Yeah, well, I found what I was looking for. What are you up to?"

"Packing."

Sara looked at him in surprise. "Where are you going?"

"To Jackpot."

"Jackpot?"

"Yeah. Their coroner sent ours a disarticulated head. I'm going to find the rest of it."

"Oh," Sara replied. "Would you like some help? I could come along."

"No, don't worry about me," he replied. "I don't want to take you away from your case."

"Are you sure? I'm working with Warrick; I'm sure he can handle it without me."

"No, really, I'll be fine."

"Okay," Sara said slowly. "I … um … I guess I'll see you when you get back."

He nodded and winked at her. "Yeah, you will."

He tossed the last of his things into his bag, and slung it over his shoulder while Sara watched.

"Be careful," she said.

"I will."

With those parting words, he was gone.

* * *

_November 2015_

"Okay, Anna, what story do you want to read tonight?" Sara asks.

Anna runs to her bookshelf and selects a _Fancy Nancy_ book. Sara smiles, not at all surprised. The book, a birthday gift from Lindsey, is one of her favorites.

They settle on the bed together, Anna snuggling against Sara, to read the book. They take turns, each reading a page before passing off to the other.

"Okay, time to sleep," Sara says softly as they finish the book.

Anna nods and slides down into the bed while Sara stands up. She tucks the covers around her daughter and kisses her forehead.

"Sweet dreams, baby."

"Mommy?" Anna asks sleepily.

"Yes?"

"Will you be here when I wake up tomorrow?"

"Yes," Sara says. "I'll be here with you the whole time Daddy's gone."

"Will you make me breakfast like Daddy does?"

Sara smiles. "I'll make you breakfast – but, I offer no guarantee that it will be just like Daddy does it."

"When will Daddy be home?"

"In a few days."

"I miss him."

Sara smiles wistfully. "So do I, sweetie. But, we'll be fine without him for a few days."

Anna nods. "I love you, Mommy."

"I love you, too, baby," Sara said, turning out her lights. "Good night."

"Good night."

* * *

_November 2003_

Jackpot was very much what Grissom expected: A small town full of people who had seen nothing, knew nothing, and didn't want to talk to a stranger. His first introduction was to Lieutenant Alan Brooks, who was supremely unconcerned about the discovery of a human head in his town. His brother, Leland, who was having breakfast with him when Grissom met up with them at the town's diner, suggested that the dead man had been a hiker or transient who had fallen in the mountains.

The others in the restaurant seemed to share this opinion; talk swirled around them about bears, mountain lions, and even a satanic cult. Brooks made it clear that no one from the community had been reported missing, which meant that the case was of very low priority to him.

"Lieutenant, the preliminary autopsy revealed a single, straight, two inch cut on the victim's jaw," Grissom said. "It was a blade mark. So, there's not just a body out there – there's also a killer."

Judging by the look on his face, Brooks was going through intense mental debate. Grissom could almost see the pros and cons as they were weighed. Pursuing the case would mean potentially labeling one of the people in town a murderer – but, refusing to do so would potentially leave one of those same people as the murderer's next victim.

"Okay," he said at last, his desire to protect his friends and neighbors winning out. "How can I help you?"

"Can you tell me where the head was found?" Grissom asked.

"I can tell you who found it," he replied. "Better yet, I'll take you to her."

"Excellent."

They got up from the table; Grissom waited a moment while the other men settled the bill. They walked outside together, and Leland left them to head to work. Grissom was following the lieutenant to his SUV when his cell phone rang.

"Grissom," he said as he answered it.

"Is the service actually bad out there, or are you just keeping your phone off?" Catherine asked.

"I'm sorry; I should have called," Grissom replied.

"This trip wouldn't have anything to do with you ducking case reviews, now would it?" she asked.

"How can you think that?" Grissom asked. "You wouldn't mind taking care of those for me, would you?"

"Oh, your job, my pay? Why would I care?"

"I'll make it up to you."

"Yeah, you had better."

Grissom smiled, trying to think of something other than a week off that would pacify Catherine after she saw the stacks of files on his desk.

Catherine launched into a description of the leaf litter Hodges had identified from the head. "He's emailing you a detailed report," she finished.

"Good," Grissom replied. "Thanks. I owe you one."

"You sure do!" Catherine hung up.

Grissom closed his own phone, mulling over the very exacting description of a mountain forest that Hodges had been able to create.

"Trouble with the wife?" Alan asked, shaking him back to the moment.

"Yeah," Grissom replied with a slight smile. "She hates it when we're apart."

Somehow, thinking of Catherine as his wife wasn't a stretch – they had certainly been through enough together over the years. Yet, his thoughts strayed to the _other_ woman in his life … the one who ignited a totally different passion in him, one more fitting of a spousal relationship …

A secretive smile played on his lips as he climbed into his SUV to follow the lieutenant. Remembering how Sara's lips tasted, how her skin felt under his fingers …

He suddenly hoped his case would be solved quickly.

* * *

Sara tossed fitfully, unable to find a comfortable position for sleep. She had been home from work for five hours, and unable to sleep for the past three. Finally giving up, she got out of bed and padded to the kitchen. Maybe a glass of wine would calm her nerves and lull her to sleep.

She knew exactly why she couldn't sleep: Grissom had left without her, even though she had offered to join him. She couldn't understand why he didn't want her to go with him. It would have made his job easier to have another pair of hands, and brought him home sooner. She wanted to go along to work, not to spend a romantic weekend with him. She smiled slightly at the thought. From what Catherine had said after speaking with Grissom, Sara had a feeling that nothing about Jackpot could be considered "romantic."

Her smile faded as another thought intruded. What if their recent romantic evening was the source of his current distance? She had refused to have sex with him. And, although he had said he was fine with waiting, although he was nothing other than the perfect gentleman in the moment … What if it _did_ bother him? What if he was pulling away because she had been unwilling to take their relationship to the next level?

"No," Sara said aloud. "No. Grissom's not that type of man."

But, even as the words sounded in her empty kitchen, she wondered if they were true. What did she know of Grissom's sexual desires and drives? Until recently, their physical relationship had gone no further than a kiss on the cheek. Maybe …

Sara drained the last of her wine and made her decision. When Grissom came home from Jackpot, she'd make sure he had a night he'd never forget.

* * *

_November 2015_

After putting Anna to bed, Sara curls up on the couch with a book she has been meaning to read for the past month. The dog comes in and lies down on the floor beside her; she absently reaches down to scratch behind his ears.

"It's quiet," she whispers to him.

She sighs. She misses Grissom.

It's funny, really. They have spent more than their share of time apart. In all the years that she has known him, they have lived in different cities, different states and even different countries. Even during the early years of their marriage, they only saw each other a few times a month when one or the other could make the transatlantic journey for a visit. Sara shakes her head. She still can't believe that they agreed to live six thousand miles apart for so long.

Even more than that, she can't believe that she's so lonely without him after only a few hours. After going for months at a time without seeing him at more than one point in their relationship, a four day conference should be easy for her.

"He'll be home soon," she whispers.

She picks up her book and begins to read.

* * *

The next day brings a mopey little girl who is very put out that her mommy does not butter her toast exactly the same way her daddy does. On a school day, Sara wouldn't have been too concerned. She would have merely dropped her daughter off at school, where the distractions of lessons and friends would improve her mood. However, on a Saturday, school is not an option. Certain that Anna has the capacity to make her crazy with her dismal mood, Sara knows that drastic measures are in order.

"Okay," she says as they clean up the breakfast dishes, "we're going to get dressed, and then we're going out."

"Where?" Anna asks, her interest slightly piqued.

"Well," Sara says slowly, "I thought you might like to go to the Springs Preserve."

Anna's eyes light up. "Really?"

"Really," Sara says, grinning at her reaction. "You'd like to go?"

"Yeah!"

"Okay. Let's get dressed, and we'll go."

* * *

_November 2003_

Forty-eight hours into his trip, Grissom regretted not bringing Sara with him. He found the rest of the body quickly enough, but finding good help proved to be considerably harder. The local law enforcement was unaccustomed to dealing with murders at all, let alone one that would require such a delicate touch.

Once they had the body pulled from the hole in which it had been partially buried, Grissom began the long task of dealing with the evidence he took from it. Although the local coroner and veterinarian was very helpful when it came to collecting the evidence, he did not have the necessary skills or time to be of assistance processing it.

"I should have brought her," Grissom sighed after working nearly ten hours to process evidence. "It was stupid to want to do this alone."

Knowing that, other than to have Sara with him, he needed to eat more than anything else, Grissom left the vet's office and headed to the diner. He took at seat at the bar; Doris, the woman he had met yesterday, was in front of him in a flash.

"Good morning," she said. "What can I get you?"

"Coffee," he said without hesitation. "And …" He glanced at the menu on the counter in front of him. "Two eggs with bacon and wheat toast."

"Coming right up," she said.

She was back only a moment later to pour his coffee. "So, you live in Las Vegas?"

"That's right."

"Must be exciting."

"It can be."

"I'll bet you have a lot of interesting stories to tell."

"That all depends on your definition of interesting," Grissom replied.

She put the coffee pot down and leaned on the counter, her face uncomfortably close to his. "I'd love to be the judge of that for you."

Grissom leaned back. "I … um …"

"Doris, back off. He's married."

Grissom looked up, glad to see Lieutenant Brooks for the first time.

Doris straightened up immediately. "Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't realize … you're not wearing a ring, you know."

"In my line of work, it's not a good idea," Grissom said, repeating what he had heard Catherine tell Eddie when he had reprimanded her for not wearing her wedding band to work. "Too much of a chance of getting chemicals on it."

"Oh," she said, obviously deflated. "I'll go get your order for you."

Lieutenant Brooks sat down next to Grissom. "She was always a flirt in high school."

"I can imagine."

"Good thing your wife wasn't here to see that, huh?"

Grissom smiled, thinking of how Catherine would have reacted to the scene. "Oh, I have a feeling she'd find it funny."

Brooks chuckled. "You've got an understanding wife."

"Yeah," Grissom said, his thoughts jumping from Catherine to Sara.

He tried very hard to see Doris' flirting through her eyes, and found himself completely unable to do so. The fact that he had known her for so many years, and was working on building a romantic relationship with her, but had no idea how she would react to something like this made him rather sad.

* * *

"Okay, so we're all clear?" Catherine asked. "Nick and Sara, double at the Four Aces. Warrick, home invasion in Henderson."

"What about you, queen for a day?" Warrick teased.

"I'm working on all the evidence Brass and I took from Grissom's vic's dorm room," she said, shaking her head.

"Any word on when he's coming back?" Sara asked, hoping that she sounded casual.

"Not yet," Catherine replied. "At last report, the villagers still aren't talking, someone broke into his SUV, his field kit was stolen, and half the town thinks I'm his wife because he's been calling so much."

Sara, Nick and Warrick stared at her in shock.

"Tell me you're exaggerating," Nick said.

"Nope," Catherine replied.

"So, basically, you're saying that we'll never see Griss again?" Warrick asked.

Catherine smiled. "Warrick, please. We're far better than that."

"Wait," Sara said. "How is he up there working without his kit?"

"Oh, you know Grissom," Catherine replied. "He'll find a way."

Sara shook her head wordlessly. She wasn't sure what bothered her more – the fact that Grissom had been robbed and was having such a difficult time in Jackpot, or the fact that he hadn't even bothered to call to let her know that he had made it there safely, let alone that he was having problems.

"You're right," Nick said. "He'll make it happen and be the hero once again." He looked at Sara. "Ready to solve a crime?"

"Yeah, sure," she said, getting up to follow him out.

Her thoughts tumbled around like leaves in a breeze. How could she been so unaware that so much had happened to the man who had been on the verge of making love to her only days before? Did he really feel as strongly for her as he had said? Was he at all committed to her and to making a relationship work?

For the first time since he had left, she hoped that his trip would be a long one. She needed time to get her thoughts and feelings collected and under control.

* * *

By the fourth day in Jackpot, Grissom realized that his intense longing to have Sara with him had very little to do with work. He missed her help, to be sure. It would have been wonderful to have her there to assist him – at times, to take the lead.

However, as he packed up his things to go back to Vegas, he recognized for the first time that his excitement had very little to do with merely _going home_ or _solving the case_. It had everything to do with seeing Sara again.

And, following his thoughts back over the past few days, he became fully aware of the fact that for every wish that Sara had been there to help him, there had been two wishes that she had simply been there with him. He wanted to walk down the street holding her hand, to share a dinner with her in the diner, to unwind with her hiking through the mountains.

He sighed and smiled slightly. There was no other way to put it – he missed Sara, and he could hardly wait to get home to see her again.

Lieutenant Brooks was on hand when Grissom picked up his newly-repaired truck. They chatted briefly; the officer acknowledged that he had done everything in his power to thwart Grissom's investigation when he suspected that his brother could have been involved in the crime. Grissom admonished him for not seeking out the truth; Brooks gave him a disbelieving look.

"Do you not keep any secrets, Mr. Grissom? Not even from your wife?"

Grissom smiled, thinking of Sara and how long it had taken him to admit that he had any romantic interest in her at all. Now, after these past few days, he was sure that he would be more open with her. He wanted to tell her everything – he wanted to _be_ her everything.

"I used to," he said at last. "I'm trying to change."

"It's a bitch," the lieutenant said.

Grissom tilted his head in acknowledgement.

"Have a good trip."

Grissom climbed into his truck, where he found his field kit. He looked out the repaired window at Brooks, who tilted his own head in acknowledgement. Shaking his head, Grissom pulled away from the lieutenant, the parking lot, and the sleepy town.

It was time to go home.

* * *

_November 2015_

"Daddy!"

Grinning widely, Grissom opens his arms to catch the little girl who races across baggage claim toward him. He hugs her tightly, standing up and pulling her onto his hip.

"Hi, Anna Banana," he says, kissing her cheek. "Did you miss me?"

"Yes!" she exclaims.

"Did you take good care of Mommy while I was gone?"

"I did," she says with a serious nod. "And, she took good care of me, too."

Grissom barely refrains from laughing. "That's good. What did you do?"

"So much! We went to the springs and we painted our nails and we went shopping and to the movies and we made ice cream from scratch and Mommy tried to make me breakfast, but it wasn't like you make it."

Grissom does laugh at that. "Well, it was nice of her to try."

"Thanks for defending me," Sara says as she catches up with them.

Grissom looks at her for the first time, his eyes taking on a familiar shine. "Hello, love," he says.

"Hi," Sara says, leaning in to kiss him.

Grissom smiles against her lips. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too."

* * *

It is much later, and Anna has been tucked in for the night, before Grissom and Sara truly have an opportunity to talk. They sit on the couch together, snuggling into each other's embrace.

"So, how was it, really?" Grissom asks.

Sara laughs. "I have a new respect for Catherine," she says. "This single mother thing is _hard_."

Grissom chuckles and pulls her closer. "So, you only missed me because you had to deal with Anna all alone?"

"No," she says, leaning up to kiss him. "I missed you for quite a few reasons."

"Oh?"

"Mm-hm." She kisses him again. "It was very lonely being in that big bed all by myself."

"Are you saying you'd like to share it with me?"

"Always. But, especially right now."

Grissom laughs and, in a feat of strength she hasn't seen in years, picks her up and carries her to their bedroom. He drops her on the bed, then closes the door. He crosses the room again with shining eyes, pulling off his shirt as he steps closer and closer to her.

"I missed you, too," he says as he crawls across the bed to where she is lying, watching him. His lips touch hers. "I missed this."

Sara moans and pulls him to her. Grissom sighs and kisses her deeply.

The ringing of Sara's phone breaks the moment.

Sara groans, and Grissom rolls away from her.

"Answer it," he says. "You've been off for four days. I'm sure Catherine needs you."

"Nice to see you got over being a CSI supervisor," Sara says sarcastically.

"You can take the man out of the lab, but you can't take the lab out of the man."

Sara rolls her eyes and picks up her phone. "Sidle."

"Sara, hi," Catherine says. "I know Grissom just got home, and I feel terrible for doing this, but I really need you at a scene."

"Okay," Sara says. "Tell me where, and I'll meet you there."

After writing down all the pertinent information, and assuring Catherine that she doesn't mind being called away from her husband, Sara hangs up the phone and looks at Grissom.

"Well, I think we'll have to miss each other a little longer," she says. "Catherine needs me at a homicide."

"I figured," Grissom replies. He kisses her gently. "I'll be right here when you get back."

"I'll hold you to that," Sara replies. "And, just in case that happens to be tomorrow morning … don't forget to make Anna's breakfast just the way she likes it. I've been screwing it up for the past four days."

Grissom's laughter follows her into the bathroom.

* * *

_November 2003_

Sara was lying on her couch, reading the latest forensics journal, when the knock sounded on her door. Frowning, she got up to answer it. She rarely had visitors. Thinking that maybe one of her neighbors needed to borrow something, she peeked through the peep hole.

Grissom stood on her doorstep.

Her breath caught in her throat and her hand immediately and inexplicably went to her hair. She was wearing sweatpants and a tank top, her hair was in a ponytail, and she hadn't put on any makeup. She had made such plans for his homecoming, and they didn't involve anything remotely related to her current appearance.

He knocked on the door again, and she pulled herself together. She had to either let him see her as she was, or not see him at all.

Her decision was made in an instant. She opened the door.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi," he replied.

He was barely through the door before he pulled her into a deep kiss. Sara responded instantly, pulling him closer to her and fully into her apartment.

Grissom finally broke the kiss and looked at her with a slight smile. He brushed a stray strand of hair back from her face.

"Miss me?" she teased.

"Yes," he replied honestly. "You were right, Sara; I should have let you come along." He kissed her. "I missed you." Another kiss. "I needed you."

Sara moaned and tilted her head to the side as he began to kiss her neck. "I missed you, too."

"Sara …"

She took his hand and led him deeper into her apartment, all the way to her bedroom. They collapsed onto the bed together, and she rolled on top of him.

"I want you," she whispered.

"Sara …"

"I mean it," she said. "I want us to have sex. Tonight. Right now."

Groaning, Grissom rolled them so he was on top of her. He grabbed the hem of her tank top to lift it over her head.

His cell phone rang.

They both stopped and looked at each other.

"Can we ignore it?" Sara asked hopefully.

"No," Grissom sighed. "I'm sorry, Sara."

She shrugged. "It's the job, right?"

"Right." Grissom picked up his phone. "Grissom."

He spoke for a few minutes, while Sara struggled with trying to calm down. She had a feeling that no matter who was on the other end of the conversation, their "alone time" was over.

"I'm sorry," Grissom said as he closed the phone and put it back in his pocket. "That was the DA. We've got a bit of a problem with some evidence in Warrick's case that's currently on trial."

"So, you have to go to work?"

"Yes. So do you, and so does the rest of the team. I'll call the others on the way there."

"Okay," Sara said. "To work, then."

Grissom leaned in for a chaste kiss. "We'll continue this later."

Sara smiled. "I can't wait."


	12. Revelations

A/N: Our story is about to take a few interesting turns! We hope you enjoy it.

Thanks for reading and reviewing!

I don't own CSI. Some inspiration and dialogue are taken from episode 407, "Invisible Evidence."

* * *

_November 2015_

"What have we got?" Sara asks as she joins Catherine at the crime scene for which she was summoned away from her husband.

"Early indications are murder-suicide," Catherine replies. "It appears that the wife killed her husband then herself."

Sara grimaces. "Sounds pretty easy. Why do you need me?"

"Because we may be wrong."

Sara arches an eyebrow.

"Their son found them," Catherine explains. "From what Vartann has been able to get out of him, he's more _angry_ than sorrowful. Seems a bit suspicious, you know?"

"Yeah," Sara agrees. "Where is he?"

"With Vartann."

Sara follows Catherine's pointing finger with her eyes and sees Detective Vartann talking to a teenager. The anger Catherine described is obvious on his face.

"Can I talk to him?" she asks.

"Be my guest. I'll be processing inside the house."

Sara nods and leaves Catherine. Vartann hears her approaching and turns to greet her.

"Hey, Sara," he says.

"Hi," she replies. She turns to the teenager. Now that she's closer, she can see that he's a very _young_ teenager – fourteen at most. "Hi," she says. "I'm Sara Sidle. I work with the crime lab."

"Good for you," he mutters.

Vartann opens his mouth to reprimand the child, but Sara silences him with a look. "What's your name?" she asks.

"Jake," he replies.

"Jake," she repeats. "You live here?"

"Wow, are you a genius?"

"Not quite," she replies. "I missed qualifying by a few points."

"Too bad for you. Your parents must have been disappointed."

"How about we talk about _your_ parents?" Sara suggests.

"What's the point?" he asks, his tone becoming more defiant. "They're dead."

Sara looks at him closely as he talks and feels her heart break. "That doesn't mean we can't talk about them," she says quietly. "In my job, I talk about dead people a lot."

"Yeah? Well, that makes you a freak. Only freaks talk about dead people."

"I don't know about that," Sara says, maintaining her even tone and eye contact to the best of her ability.

"You know, Jake, I think you need to cut Ms. Sidle some slack," Vartann cuts in. "She's just trying to do her job. She doesn't need to deal with you being rude to her."

"I act how I want to act," he says. "If she can't deal with it, oh, well."

Sara looks at Vartann. "You know, I think I've got this."

He frowns. "You're sure?"

"Yeah."

Shrugging, he walks away.

Sara turns to face the young man again. "Now, where were we?"

"I think we were at the part where you pump me for information about my parents."

"Are you ready to talk about them?"

He considers her for a moment. "No."

"Did you see what happened?"

"I already told you, I don't want to talk about it."

"Yeah," Sara says. "I can understand that, believe me. But, it'll help you to talk about it."

"I thought you were a cop, not a shrink."

"I'm neither, actually."

His eyes narrow. "So, what are you?"

"A scientist."

"Scientists don't just show up at murder scenes."

"Some do. I do. I work with the crime lab. We collect and analyze evidence related to crimes."

Something like interest flashes in his eyes, but it is quickly masked with defiance once again. "Is this supposed to make me want to talk to you?"

"Is it?"

"No."

"Then, no, it's not."

"Hi, Sara."

They both turn as Melinda, one of the social workers Sara sees far too often, approaches.

"Hi," Sara replies.

"This must be Jake Tanner."

"Yes," Sara says.

"Hi," Melinda says. "I'm Melinda. I'm with Social Services."

A bit of panic sneaks into Jake's eyes. "Why are you here?"

"I'm going to take you with me," she says. "You need a place to stay."

"No," he says, the panic intensifying. "No, this is my home. I want to stay here."

"Jake, you can't. There are cops and CSIs all over your house right now. And, even once they go home, you can't stay here alone."

"I can't leave," he insists. "I can't leave my mom! Please, don't make me leave my mom!" He turns to Sara. "Don't let her take me! Please!"

Sara's heart breaks again, and tears press against the backs of her eyes. "I'm sorry, Jake, but she's right. You have to go with her."

"No! No, don't make me!"

Melinda takes his arm. "I'm sorry, Sara."

Sara shakes her head. "You have to do your job."

"Come on, Jake. Come with me."

His tough exterior is shattered as he tearfully follows Melinda to her waiting car. Sara watches as he climbs into the car and Melinda drives him away.

"He'll be fine," she says to herself. "He'll be fine."

Even so, she can't stop the tear that slides down her cheek.

* * *

_November 2003_

"I'm sorry, Griss."

"You have nothing to be sorry about," Grissom replied. "It's not your fault the arresting officer didn't secure a warrant. When we're called in to search for evidence, we assume everything has been handled."

Warrick shook his head and opened the crime lab door for his supervisor. "Yeah, well, now I understand why my grandmother repeated that 'when you assume' thing so often."

Grissom smiled slightly. "There is a lot of truth in that."

"Yeah, so I've learned."

"Warrick, we're not out of this yet," Grissom said. "We've got twenty-four hours, and a lot of evidence that still has to be processed. We can still nail this guy – just not using the murder weapon."

Warrick nodded. "You're right."

"Grissom."

Grissom and Warrick stopped short at the sight of the sheriff in the lab.

"Sheriff," Grissom replied.

"We need to talk about him," Atwater said, waving his hand in Warrick's direction.

"Nice to finally meet you, too, Sheriff," Warrick said.

Grissom turned to Warrick. "Why don't you go ahead and start the briefing? I'll be in in a minute."

"Yeah," Warrick agreed, walking away from them and to the break room, where Catherine had gathered the rest of the team.

"Where to?" Atwater asked.

"Right this way," Grissom replied, leading him to his office.

"Very good."

They stepped into the office; Atwater was immediately intrigued by everything on Grissom's shelves.

"Warrick Brown followed protocol," Grissom said. "You cannot pin this mess on him."

"Warrick Brown was on the stand. He's the face of the case. It's all about perception. If Fife walks, the public only hears one thing – 'evidence against a killer was thrown out of court because CSI conducted an improper search.'"

"You think I don't know that?" Grissom asked.

Atwater stared at Grissom's fetal pig for a moment. "What the hell is this?"

"It's an irradiated fetal pig," Grissom explained. "I used the tissue to determine the effects of radiation –"

"Look, Grissom, you and your team have done exemplary work," Atwater interrupted. "Thanks to the crime lab, some very difficult cases have gone our way. You've elevated the status of the whole bureau."

"Uh-huh," Grissom said. "Then, why are you here?"

"I'm holding a press conference in an hour where I'll be telling the media that this case is under your purview."

Grissom chuckled with dawning understanding. "Oh, it is about perception, isn't it?"

"Glad we understand each other," Atwater replied.

After offering Grissom dinner, Atwater took his leave. Grissom stared after him for a long minute.

He trusted his team. He knew they were very bit as _exemplary_ as the sheriff had said. And, he knew that, in many ways, he and his team were on trial every single day. Their work stood as testimony to the truth. Their ability to do their work, and to do it well, was life changing for so many people. To Grissom, that was the end result: telling the truth they discovered and finding justice for those who could not seek it for themselves. The actual jury trial, the charges filed … those were not his responsibility, although he often played a part in them. They were not the reason he did his job.

Yet, Sheriff Atwater had just changed that for him. He had made him the one responsible for the outcome of the trial. For the first time, Grissom felt the uncomfortable weight of his job.

Shaking his head, he got up from his chair. Sitting in his office wasn't going to help, particularly when they were up against a ticking clock. He had to get to the meeting.

* * *

When Grissom walked into the break room, Catherine and Warrick were briefing the team on what had happened. The case had been Catherine's from the beginning; she had been assigned to investigate the rape and murder of the nineteen-year-old girl. Warrick had become part of the investigation when he had been called to search Michael Fife's car on an unrelated charge and found the bloody knife that Greg had linked back to Catherine's case.

Grissom walked into the room as Catherine was explaining that her evidence had become a low priority upon Warrick's discover of the knife, which was certainly enough evidence for the prelim. Grissom looked around at his team, certain that they would pull together to help Warrick.

"This is a rush case," he said. "Everyone's in the pool for twenty-four hours. Warrick, you need to see Robbins. Have him walk you through his notes on the autopsy. Nick, Sara, the judge issued a warrant for Fife's vehicle. Detail is towing it back to our garage."

"Hold on," Nick said. "Warrick's already searched the car, and the knife's been excluded. What exactly are we hoping to find?"

"I don't know," Grissom replied. "But, the knife and the towel are invisible evidence. The jury will never see them. So, we have to find something that's visible."

Sara shifted in her seat. "Uh, listen, I recognize the importance of this, but I'm in the middle of my own homicide investigation." She looked at Grissom, obviously certain that he would dismiss her from helping Nick so she could finish her case.

"I'll talk to your detective. Explain the deal," Grissom assured her.

Sara blinked. She had not expected to hear _that_. "Well, it's not about the detective. It's about my own responsibility."

Grissom stared at her. Was she _challenging_ him? In front of the _team_? "I'm handing out assignments, Sara. It's not a negotiation."

Sara stared at him in shock. They held each other's eyes even as Catherine spoke of going back to the crime scene. Finally, Sara broke eye contact and looked away. She had lost, and she knew it.

"Deadline's four PM," Grissom said. "Tomorrow. 'Once more into the breach.'"

The team stood as one unit, and all brushed past Grissom as they left the break room. Sara caught his eye as she walked past; he could easily see the hurt and anger his words had caused her. Yet, he did not feel any regret for what he had said to her. They had discussed this: personal on their own time, and work at work. They were in the lab, working a rush case. His professional reputation was on the line. He needed his team to fall in line and rally around him and Warrick, not to selfishly demand to work their own cases. She had acted immaturely, and, if Grissom were honest, he was disappointed in her. He thought that the team meant more to her – that _he_ meant more to her – than her attitude suggested.

Shaking his head, he followed the team out. They were up against a deadline. He needed to get to work.

* * *

_November 2015_

"So, it looks like our initial theory was right," Catherine says, coming into the bedroom that Sara is processing. "Mandy just called and said that all the prints on the gun came back to Mrs. Tanner. Murder-suicide."

"Hm," Sara murmurs, obviously distracted.

"Sara? Are you hearing me? We're done here."

Sara's head snaps up. "What? I'm sorry, Cat."

"Are you okay?" Catherine asks.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Well, you don't seem fine. Are you feeling all right?"

"I'm fine," Sara says. "Really. I just … I keep thinking about Jake."

"Jake? The son?"

"Yeah. The poor kid. This is a lot to process."

"I know," Catherine says. She looks at Sara closely. "Sara … don't get too attached, okay? Go home, hug your daughter, kiss your husband … Do something to get rid of today."

Sara nods, thinking of the number of times Grissom has given her similar advice. "Yeah," she agrees. "I will."

"Good." Catherine looks at her watch. "Go ahead and cut out a couple hours early. Grissom just got back; I know you want to see him."

Sara smiles. "Am I getting special treatment because of him?"

"Maybe," Catherine replies with a smile of her own. "Don't get used to it, though."

"I won't."

Still smiling, Sara packs up her things before Catherine has time to change her mind. If she hurries, she can be home before Anna leaves for school.

* * *

_November 2003_

"We've been waiting forever," Sara said, leaning back against the fence outside the garage. "Where are those guys with this car?"

"I don't know," Nick replied. "I'll call and see."

Sara nodded as he walked away, pulling out his cell phone. Without Nick to distract her, she felt her anger mounting again over the way Grissom had treated her. She couldn't believe he had spoken to her like that in front of their entire team. She wasn't an errant child; she didn't deserve to be reprimanded in front of everyone. And, she hadn't done anything wrong. The only thing that made Warrick's case more important than hers was that a uniform had screwed up and made them look bad to the press. Why should it be her job to do damage control?

She had worked herself into a state of nearly extreme anger by the time Nick rejoined her.

"There's a traffic jam on Flamingo," he said. "Tow truck should be here any second."

"You know what pisses me off?" Sara asked, rather than responding to what he had said.

"Lots of things," Nick replied.

Sara ignored his teasing. "Victims aren't equal. High profile cases get priority."

"A ticking clock gets priority," Nick said.

"Every case is a ticking clock. The only difference between a cold case and a hot case is time."

"I don't care if you're working on the hottest case of your career," Nick said. "If your supervisor tells you to leave a scene to go wash his car, you do it."

Sara stared at him in shock.

"You don't have a career without a job," Nick said simply.

Sara was saved from responding by the arrival of the tow truck. She and Nick both stared at the pancaked car in shock.

"Paperwork mix up," Nick muttered as the car was unloaded. He looked at the street clothes both he and Sara were wearing. "Well, we'd better get changed."

"Yeah," she agreed. "We've got a car to re-inflate."

* * *

_November 2015_

Sara wanders through her quiet house, searching for something she can't identify. She sighs, knowing that she hasn't felt this unsettled in a long, long time.

She did exactly as she promised Catherine. She came home, hugged Anna, took her to school, came home again, and had breakfast with her husband. They had even found time to finish what Catherine had interrupted by calling Sara to her scene. And, for those few hours, Sara felt at peace again.

But, now Anna is still at school and Grissom is at the university, leaving Sara alone with her thoughts. Try as she might to forget, she keeps thinking of Jake.

The look in his eyes as he pleaded with her not to let Melinda take him away from his mother haunts Sara. The pain, the fear, the sorrow … Sara knows exactly how he feels.

She shakes her head, trying to banish the thoughts of her own night from hell. But, no matter how hard she tries, she can't stop thinking of the social worker who took her from the scene of her own father's murder. She, too, had wanted to stay with her mother. But, unlike Jake, she had been too afraid to even ask for what she wanted.

She shakes her head again, and, realizing that she can't fight it anymore, picks up her phone and calls Melinda.

"Melinda Grey," she says as she answers the call.

"Hi, Melinda, it's Sara Sidle," Sara says.

"Sara, hi," Melinda replies. "What can I do for you?"

"I was hoping you'd be able to give me some information about Jake Tanner," Sara says, knowing that to beat around the bush would be a waste of everyone's time.

"Jake," Melinda says with a sigh. "That poor kid. I couldn't get him to talk much, but from the little he said, I have a feeling he may have seen some of what happened."

"Oh, God," Sara nearly moans. "That poor kid."

"Yeah. I've got him in a group home right now; he'll have to stay there until I can find an available placement with a foster family."

"He doesn't have any family he can stay with?"

"No-o," Melinda says slowly. "Both parents were only children, and three grandparents are deceased, and the surviving grandmother lives in assisted living in Florida. Alzheimer's."

"Oh, no," Sara sighs.

"I'm sorry, Sara," Melinda says. "I wish I had better news." She pauses. "Listen, from what I can gather, you were the first person to be truly kind to Jake after everything happened. So, he got a little clingy with you at the scene. I know you, and I know that's got to be eating you up. Just … you've got to keep perspective, okay? The kid is going through hell, and searching for a connection point. If you're not used to that, it can take a toll."

"I'm fine," Sara says. "I know exactly what you mean."

"Good." She pauses. "Listen, Sara, I've got another call. I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Okay," Sara agrees. "Thanks, Melinda."

"Anytime."

Sara hangs up the phone and stares at it for a long minute.

"I shouldn't have called," she whispers. "I was better off not knowing."

* * *

_November 2003_

Grissom sat in his office, attempting to read Catherine's newest notes from the scene. His concentration was nearly zero, which was a dangerous thing on such a time-sensitive case.

He sighed and took off his reading glasses. He knew exactly what was bothering him – he just didn't want to acknowledge it.

_Sara._

Her attitude had certainly taken a turn for the better. The challenge of re-inflating the car before searching it had distracted her enough that she was willing to pitch in and do her part to help with the case. Even so, Grissom couldn't shake her initial outburst from her mind.

"_What's going on here? Does anyone even care?"_

Grissom's head snapped up at the sound of screaming from the reception area. He jumped up and ran to his office door in time to see Nick approaching Rita Lyford, the sister of the young woman whose case they were working.

"Ms. Lyford, I'm Nick Stokes," he said. "I'm also a criminalist here in the lab, and I want you to know that I understand. I understand your frustration. This is not an easy thing to deal with, but I can assure you that this entire lab is on your sister's case. Okay? I can't make any promises, but we're doing everything possible to keep this suspect behind bars, where he belongs."

"Thank you," Rita said, her voice oddly controlled, as though she was struggling not to burst into tears. "That's all I needed to hear."

"Okay," Nick said, giving her a slight smile. "Okay."

"Thank you," Rita said to Judy, who looked stunned.

"Hang in there," Nick said as she walked away.

"Hey," Grissom said as Nick walked past him. "What is going on around here?"

"Rita Lyford … she just needed a little reassurance," Nick said.

"Yeah, I can see that. Did she just come in here screaming?"

"No," Nick said. He looked away.

"Nick, tell me what happened."

"She – She wanted to talk to Warrick," he admitted.

Grissom nodded with dawning understanding. "He didn't handle it well."

"He's under a lot of pressure," Nick said.

"Yeah," Grissom acknowledged. "We all are."

Nick nodded.

Grissom grabbed his shoulder and shook it. "You did good, Nicky."

Nick smiled an embarrassed smile. "I just told the truth."

Grissom nodded. That was what Nick did – he told the truth. He fought for the victims and for justice every bit as hard as Grissom did, but he did it in a very different way. Grissom had always thought that Nick strove too hard to empathize with the victims, but, after watching him with Rita, he finally understood what a positive impact Nick's big heart had on the case.

"I'm going to find Warrick," Nick said.

Grissom nodded again, and Nick walked away. His words, however, resonated with Grissom.

He, too, was under a lot of pressure. He, too, had handled a situation badly. And, he needed to apologize for what he had said.

He walked off in search of Sara.

* * *

_November 2015_

"Hey," Grissom says as he walks into the living room. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Sara says looking up at him. "Why?"

"You're staring at the TV, but it's turned off."

"Oh," she says, waving her hand dismissively. "I was just thinking."

"About what?"

"Can you sit with me a minute?"

Grissom nods and sits down on the couch with her. "What's up?"

"My case last night … the one Catherine called me in for … was a murder-suicide."

"Pretty straightforward."

"Yeah. The wife killed her husband and herself."

Grissom nods.

"Their fourteen-year-old son saw it."

Grissom grabs her hand. "Oh, honey."

Sara looks at him with teary eyes. "I talked to him, Griss. He was so defiant … rude, actually. Vartann tried to correct him, but … I just let him go. He needed to get all that out, you know?"

"Yeah."

"But, then, Melinda came – you know Melinda Grey from Social Services, right?"

"Yes." He searches her eyes, looking for the signs that he missed so many years ago, wanting to know that she can deal with this, that the memories won't be too painful for her.

"When she went to take him away, he just turned into this lost little boy." A tear slides down her cheek. "He begged me not to let her take him away from his mom."

"Oh, Sara, honey …" Grissom's heart breaks for her.

"I've been there," Sara says. "I know how he feels."

"Honey," Grissom says again, terrified that he's losing her, "he'll be fine. Melinda will take good care of him."

"I called her," she says. "She put him in a group home. She's trying to find a foster family for him. He doesn't have any family to take him."

"Like you," he says quietly.

"Like me," she agrees. "Grissom … I don't want that for Jake."

"His name is Jake?"

She nods silently.

"Honey, I understand that you're upset. I understand that you want to help him. But, Sara, what can you do? This is out of your hands."

"I've been thinking about that," Sara says. "The thing is, it's _not_ out of my hands."

Grissom looks at her closely. "What are you saying, Sara?"

She looks at him, holding his eyes. "I want us to take him."

Grissom blinks. "To take him? As a foster child?"

"Yes."

"I don't know, Sara …"

"Gil, come on. You can't say we don't have the space. We have two guest rooms."

"I know that. I'm not worried about the space. I'm worried about everything else."

"We're parents, Gil. We can handle a child."

"_A_ child, yes. _Our_ child, yes. But, Sara, this _isn't_ our child. This isn't even a child, really. He's a teenager. A teenager who has just been through a terrible ordeal, one who needs special attention and guidance. I'm not sure we're ready or able to do that for him."

Sara looks at him with eyes full of unshed tears. "_I_ was that child. All I needed was someone to care. It took several foster families before I found that. And, let me tell you, the time between my father's death and finally moving in with the Andersons was not a pretty time. I wouldn't wish that on anyone – certainly not on Jake."

"I don't know, Sara …"

Sara pulls her hand away from his. "Stop saying that! Why are you so opposed to this?"

"I don't want to do this to Anna!" he finally exclaims. "Sara, we have spent more than five years shielding her from what you do – from what I did. We've stressed over and over that you're a scientist. We've kept her away from everything related to crime, to murder, to the seedy side of life. And, now, you're asking me to allow you to bring all of that into our home – into her life. I'm sorry, but I can't be totally willing to accept that as quickly as you are!"

"He's a child, Gil," Sara says, her voice shaking with quiet anger. "A child just like I was. A child who did not come from the best of families, and who has seen things that I would never wish on anyone, let alone my own daughter. But, rejecting him like this … it's punishing him for the way he grew up. That's something he can't control any more than Anna can." She stands up. "I've been punished for the sins of my parents. I don't want that for him."

She walks out of the room, leaving a stunned Grissom behind her.

* * *

_November 2003_

Grissom finally found Sara in the layout room. She had pinned the bloody sheet Grissom had processed to the wall, and was standing in front of it, studying it. Grissom stepped into the room, wondering what was going through her mind.

"Checking my work?" he asked.

"Oh, I'm just looking around."

He stood next to her, hoping she could shed some new light onto the case. "What are you thinking?"

"Well, her body left this void behind," Sara said, starting with the obvious. She stepped to the sheet, and indicated the void. "The attacker was on top. He held her down by her wrists."

"Which would explain the transfer of wax from him to her," Grissom said as she turned to look at him.

"Yes," Sara nodded.

Grissom nodded, glad they were at least on the same page again. Really, from the way she was talking to him, it was as if the episode in the break room had never happened. Perhaps no apology was necessary.

"Pin me down," Sara said.

Grissom stepped forward and grabbed the wrists she held up on either side of her head. She struggled against his grip, and he tightened it.

"She would have struggled," she explained. "Then, she gave up. Afterward, when he got up, he put his hands on the sheet for leverage."

Grissom held her eyes for a moment, then released her wrists and slid his hands down to her waist, where he stopped them on either side of her body, only a whisper away from touching her.

"Like this," he said quietly.

Sara, following the path of his hands with her eyes, nodded.

"Which explains who the wax got from him to the sheets," Grissom said.

Sara brought her eyes and head around to look into his eyes. "Yes."

For a moment, they were caught in each other's eyes. Memories of their recent reunion, of their interrupted moments, of Sara's initial shyness with him flooded both of their minds …

"Grissom, um, I, um, wanted to talk to you about something," Sara said, breaking the silence and the moment as she stepped out from between his arms.

"Go ahead," Grissom said, turning to face her as she fought to put some space between them.

"Well, you know, I applied for the promotion for the key position."

Grissom nodded. "Your application is on my desk."

"About that … I, um … I needed to know …" She paused. "I – I wanted to make sure, rather, that anything that happened … or _didn't_ happen between us won't be a factor."

Grissom stared at her, his eyes narrowing slightly in confusion. Sara, realizing that he had no idea what she meant, flushed with embarrassment.

"Never mind. I – I shouldn't have said anything."

Grissom stared at her, slowly realizing what she was saying. How could she think that – any of it? They had agreed that their personal life would never interfere with their professional life, and he fully intended to keep his word.

"I, um … I'm always over-talking around you," Sara said, smiling valiantly through her humiliation.

She turned and left quickly, leaving a stunned Grissom behind her.


	13. Eyes Wide Open

A/N: First, a very happy Mother's Day to all mothers! Enjoy!

A HUGE apology for the delay in updating! One of us has been swamped at work. In the words of my brother "I liked it better when no one knew who I was." Thanks for hanging in through all the delays! I hope this chapter is worth the wait.

I don't own CSI. Some inspiration and dialogue are borrowed from episodes 408, "After the Show" and 722, "Living Doll."

* * *

_November 2015_

Grissom avoids Sara for most of the day. He knows that there are several reasons for this avoidance. First, he knows Sara, and knows that she's angry enough with him that all conversation is pointless. Second, he knows that he's stunned enough by her suggestion that all conversation is pointless. And, finally, he has no idea what to say to her to begin a conversation.

The very idea of taking in a foster child is difficult to wrap his mind around. He and Sara have Anna – a perfect family, in his mind. He doesn't see the need to add a teenager to the mix. And, when he considers how damaged this child is …

_After a few dozen kids, you get real good at knowing the difference between damaged and broken._

Grissom shudders as Donna Wetzel's words come back to him. _So long ago …_

Natalie Davis' first foster mother had known that she was damaged within a week of meeting her. Grissom and Sara have not had the same experience with foster children. And, although Sara feels a connection to this boy, who is to say that he is truly damaged, rather than broken? What if Grissom agrees to take him in, only to have him harm Anna the way Natalie hurt her foster sister? The way she hurt her natural sister? The way she hurt _Sara_?

Grissom closes his eyes and shakes his head. He can't let it happen. He just can't.

* * *

_November 2003_

"Hey," Sara said cheerfully as Grissom walked into the break room.

"Hey," he echoed, smiling at her. "You busy?"

She shrugged and closed the case file she had been studying. "Not too busy for you. What's up?"

Grissom smiled, both at her answer and the fact that she was being so normal with him. It was as though the tension that had permeated their relationship during Warrick's rush investigation had lifted, leaving only the happiness that he had learned to associate with her. He felt lighter in her presence again, just as he had before Warrick's evidence had been thrown out of court.

"Griss?" Sara asked, pulling him back from his thoughts. "Did you want something?"

He cleared his throat. "I've got a missing person. I thought you and Nick could take the case."

"Oh," she said, disappointment briefly flicking in her eyes. "Sure."

Grissom frowned, noting the change in her tone. "Would you rather not? I'm sure Nick can handle it on his own. Or, he could take Greg … he's been bothering me for more time in the field."

"No," Sara said quickly, standing up and taking the assignment slip from him. "It's not that."

"Is … something bothering you?"

She smiled a bit sadly. "I just thought that you and I … You know, never mind. I'm sure … later …"

Realizing what she was fumbling to say, Grissom grinned. "Sara." He leaned in closer and lowered his voice. "Let's have breakfast after shift."

Sara cheeks glowed pink while a beaming smile crossed her face. "Okay."

Grissom smiled. "Now, go find a missing person."

"Yes, sir."

As she went in search of Nick, Sara could not have felt happier.

* * *

_November 2015_

"You don't look very happy."

Sara is about to deny Nick's words when she realizes that he may be the one person capable of helping her.

"Sar?"

"I'm … not happy with Grissom right now."

"I don't want to know," Nick says immediately, holding his hands up to stop the flow of Sara's words. "You know the rules."

Sara smiles in spite of herself. When she rejoined CSI full time, the team gave her a condition for her employment: She could not discuss her marital problems with them. She and Grissom are both family, they argued, and they could not choose sides.

"I'm not asking you to … okay, I am going to ask you to take my side," Sara admits. "But, Nicky, I think you can help me."

"Okay," Nick reluctantly agrees. "But, if you tell _anyone_ on this team that I'm letting this happen, I will deny it until the cows come home."

Sara smiles. "Fair enough."

"What's your issue?"

"Catherine and I worked a case a couple days ago," Sara said. "Murder-suicide."

"Yeah, she said something about it. Wasn't it a couple with a teenage son?"

"Exactly," Sara agrees, pleased he already has the background information. "From what I've learned, the son – Jake – saw what happened. He's in a group home right now."

Nick makes a face. "No foster families available?"

"I guess not. That's … um … I want Grissom and me to take him."

"As a foster?"

Sara nods. "I know he needs a lot of kindness and understanding right now, and I'm sure we can give it to him."

"But, Grissom doesn't like the idea."

"No. He went on this tirade about how I was bringing my work home with me, and Anna doesn't need that sort of environment and … I don't even remember all of what he said."

"So, you're trying to convince him to change his mind."

"That's tough, considering he won't talk about it at all."

"I'm sorry to hear about that, Sar, but I don't see how I can help."

"You've done a ton of work with kids like Jake. You've mentored them before. Can't you just … talk to Grissom? Try to help him see that this won't destroy Anna's life?"

"I don't know, Sara. He's pretty protective of that little girl."

Sara's eyes narrow. "Do you think I would do something that could put her in jeopardy? If I thought taking in this child would hurt her, I would never have suggested it."

"I know that," Nick says quickly. "I just … I know how hard it can be to change Grissom's mind."

Sara smiles, thinking of how long it was before Grissom managed to change his mind about _her_. "Preaching to the choir there, Nick."

Nick chuckles. "Look, I'm not making any promises. But, if the opportunity should present itself, I'll do my best to put in a good word for you and Jake."

Sara smiles again. "Thanks, Nicky. That's all I'm asking."

* * *

_November 2003_

"Sara, Nick, I've got news."

Sara and Nick glanced at each other, then up at Grissom, who came into the break room with a flinty look in his eye that suggested they were in for a _very_ long shift.

"What's up, Griss?" Nick asked.

"Brass thinks he has your kidnapper."

"What?" Sara exclaimed. "Did they find Julie Waters?"

"No," Grissom said. "But, a man called 911 saying he never meant to hurt _her_."

"_Her_," Nick repeated. "Did he use a name?"

"No," Grissom replied. "But, Brass has him under arrest for brandishing a firearm. They're still at his house, which Brass describes as 'creepy.' He wants you there to process."

"Well," Sara said, shoving their photos from Julie Waters' house back into their folder, "we may make some progress on this case yet."

"Yeah," Nick agreed. "I'm just not sure it's the kind we want to make."

Sara sighed. "I know. It's been a long time since she was reported missing."

"Six days," Nick said. He shook his head. "We could still find her, but …"

"It's unlikely."

"Listen," Grissom said slowly, "in the past six days, this has turned into a media frenzy. This girl has become the city's sweetheart like no other missing person has – at least none that was as unknown as she was before the kidnapping."

"We know," Sara said. She and Nick had spent quite a bit of time following the news coverage of their case, almost hoping the media would manage to uncover something useful.

Grissom paused, licking his lips as he chose his words. "I want you to take Catherine to the scene with you."

Sara and Nick exchanged a glance.

"Why?" Nick asked.

"She's had more experience with high-profile cases, and with dealing with the media. It's not that I don't have faith in the two of you, it's just …"

"You don't trust us to handle ourselves on camera?" Sara nearly whispered.

"No," Grissom said. "I just think the more help you have, the easier this will go."

"Fine," Sara said, her irritation evident.

"I'll go tell Catherine," Grissom replied.

He left the room, and Nick looked at Sara.

"You don't sound like it's fine."

"Is it fine with you?" she asked.

Nick shook his head. "When is he going to let us grow up?"

Sara shook her head wordlessly. Nick was right. Grissom still saw them as the junior CSIs who needed his help and protection.

"Come on," Nick said, standing up. "Let's go. I'm sure Mom will be waiting by the car."

Sara reluctantly followed him out of the lab. Somehow, the news that Brass had a suspect in custody had lost its luster.

* * *

Grissom didn't like it. He could see the way the suspect, Howard DelHomme, was looking at Catherine. He could see the look in his eyes. He could see what he wanted. And, even more disturbing, he could see the way Catherine was looking back at him.

"You want to take him into the next room, please?" Grissom asked the officer who had control of Mr. DelHomme's movements.

"Sure," he replied, steering the suspect away from the two CSIs.

Catherine held his eyes as he was marched away.

"What are you doing?" Grissom asked.

Catherine's eyes snapped back to his face. "What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean."

"I want to interrogate him."

"Absolutely not."

"Gil!"

"Catherine, I don't like the way he looked at you."

She shrugged. "The way he looked at me is exactly why I want to interrogate him. I think I can get him to talk."

Grissom shook his head. "Sara or Nick can interrogate him. It was their case first."

"Gil, come on! I've got an in with this guy!"

"No, Catherine, you've got a man leering at you, which is not something I'm comfortable with when it comes to my friends – or my team. Just let Nick and Sara handle this for now, okay?"

She sighed, realizing she had lost the battle. "Fine."

"You're an asset to this case," Grissom said, realizing the situation needed to be smoothed over. "I just don't like the idea of you letting a man look at you like that."

"A lot of men used to pay a lot of money to look at me like that," Catherine replied.

"Not anymore," Grissom said with a finality that said that the subject was closed.

* * *

_November 2015_

"Shit! Shit, shit, shit!"

Sara storms into the house, where Grissom is reading his students' latest essays. He looks up as she bursts into his study.

"Shit!"

"What's wrong?"

"My car won't start!"

"What's wrong with it?"

"I think it's probably the alternator. I can't do anything about it right now; I've got to get to work."

"Take my car."

"If I do that, how will you get Anna to school in the morning?"

Grissom nods slowly, knowing as well as Sara does that there is every chance in the world she'll have to work beyond Anna's school's first bell.

"Okay," he says at last. "I'll drive you to work, then I'll pick you up in the morning."

"What about Anna?"

Grissom shrugs. "I'll take her out of bed right now. She'll be asleep in the car before we even pull out of the driveway."

"You're sure?"

"Do you have a good alternate plan?"

Sara bites her lip. "No."

"Okay, then. Let's go."

* * *

The next morning, Sara calls Grissom to let him know she's running late, and not to pick her up until nine at the earliest. Grissom takes Anna to school, then goes straight to the lab. Nick, who is picking up a package at the front desk, meets him in the lobby.

"Hey, Griss," he says cheerfully. "Are you here to rescue Sara?"

"Did she tell you about her car?" Grissom asks with a smile.

"Yeah. She also said she plans to kick its ass today, so don't expect her to let you call a mechanic."

"I had a feeling," Grissom replies with a smile. "How's everything going for you?"

"Good, good," Nick says. He pauses. "Hey, Grissom, I talked to Sara the other day."

Grissom frowns. "About what?"

"About … Jake."

"Oh," Grissom says with dawning understanding. He sighs. "We haven't talked about it since that first day she mentioned it."

"Yeah, I figured as much."

"What do you think?" Grissom asks, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"Well," Nick says, shifting his package from one arm to the other, "I don't think it's a terrible idea."

Grissom's eyebrows slide up, but he does not interrupt.

"I've worked with a lot of trouble kids in the past few years," Nick continues. "You know that."

Grissom nods.

"Most of them, at their core, are good kids who have been handed a raw deal. From what Sara said, and from what CYS said, that sounds like what happened with Jake."

"You talked to CYS?" Grissom is surprised.

"Yeah, I did a little checking after I talked to Sara," Nick says. "I figured that if I looked into it and saw a bad situation, I'd try to talk her out of it. But, really, I don't think that's the case here. This kid doesn't have a criminal record. His discipline problems at school are few and far between – and very minor things, like class disruptions. I just … I don't think taking him would put you or your family in any sort of danger."

"That is something I had considered," Grissom admits.

"However," Nick continues, "this is something to think about very seriously. We all know that Sara's driven by her big heart. The reality is going to be a lot tougher than she realizes."

"Yeah," Grissom agrees. "That's the other part that worries me."

Nick nods. "I'm not saying you should do it … but, I'm not saying _not_ to do it."

"In my position, Nick, what would you do?"

Nick considers him for a moment. "I'd take him."

Grissom looks at him wordlessly.

Knowing that he needs time to process everything, Nick nods. "I'll go find Sara and tell her you're here."

_

* * *

_

November 2003

"Hi," Sara said to Grissom, who was waiting in the lobby of PD to greet her. "Brass has him in interrogation?"

"Yeah," Grissom replied, reaching out to grab her arm before she could walk out of the lobby. "Sara, wait."

"What's wrong?"

"This guy … be careful with him."

Sara looked at Grissom as though he had lost it. "I've done an interrogation or two before, Griss. I'll be fine."

"Yeah, I know," he said. "It's just …"

Sara felt a shot of annoyance jolt through her. "Look, Griss, if you want Catherine to do this, I'll step down."

"No!" he said quickly. "I want you to do it. You'll just be careful, won't you?"

Sara smiled tolerantly. "Yes, Grissom, I'll be careful."

"Good. Come on. Brass is waiting."

Grissom led her down the hall, to where Brass stood in front of the interrogation room door.

"Hi, Sara. You're interrogating with me?" he greeted her.

Sara nodded. "What should I know?"

"That if you can get this guy to talk, I'll buy you dinner for a month," Brass replied. "I've been trying to intimidate him for almost ten hours, and I've got nothing."

"Well," Sara said with a smile, "with an offer like that on the line, I'll do my very best."

Brass turned from her to Grissom. "Are you coming along?"

"No, thanks," Grissom replied. "I'll just watch."

Brass smiled. "After you," he said, holding the door to the interrogation room open.

They sat down across the table from the handcuffed Howard DelHomme, who was playing with the bandages on his injured hand.

"Remember me?" Brass said. "I told you I wasn't going to leave you alone."

DelHomme's eyes flicked up briefly, then shot to Sara.

"This is CSI Sidle," Brass said. "She's very interested in what you have to tell us about Julie. Tell us what you did to her, Howard."

DelHomme remained silent, looking down at his hands again.

"I don't even need that much, really," Sara said. "My colleagues and I can figure that out on our own, if you can just tell us where she is. We need to find her."

Howard ignored her.

"Look, I know you want to make this right," Sara said. "You called 911."

"What, do you think you're going to walk out of here?" Brass asked. "You're in for the long haul."

"If you help me, I can help you," Sara said. "We already know who you're talking about. All we need to know is where to find her."

Howard raised his eyebrows slightly, but did not look up.

"Are we boring you?" Brass asked.

Howard did look up then, staring at each of them in turn.

"'Cause what you're not getting is, I've got all night," Brass said. "One of us is getting overtime to be here, and it isn't you. So, talk to me."

"I'll talk," DelHomme said, breaking his silence, "only for the one in the next room." He looked at Sara. "The pretty one."

"Well, now, that hurts my feelings," Brass said. "I've always thought of myself as quite the looker."

Sara shook her head. "Don't even try, Brass. I'll go find him someone prettier."

She stalked out of the room. Grissom met her in the hallway.

"He wants Catherine," he said.

"Thanks, Griss," Sara said dryly.

Grissom blushed. "That's not what I meant, Sara. I saw him looking at her before. That's part of the reason I wanted you in the interrogation. I don't like the way he was looking at her."

"Well, apparently, letting him leer at her in the only way to get him to talk."

Grissom sighed. "I'm not okay with that."

"I'm not okay with not finding Julie Waters," Sara said.

They held each other's eyes for a moment. Grissom finally blinked and sighed.

"Okay," he said. "I'll call Catherine."


	14. An Understanding

A/N: Again, sorry about the delay! Everything should be back on track for regular updates for the foreseeable future.

Thanks for reading, reviewing, and, most of all, for your patience. We hope you enjoy this chapter.

I don't own CSI. Some inspiration and dialogue are taken from episode 408, "After the Show."

* * *

_November 2015_

Grissom draws a deep breath as he approaches the imposing building. He shakes his head as he stares up at the edifice. No one will ever be able to make him understand why a home for children should look so intimidating.

He enters the main doors, and is greeted by a woman who is obviously forcing herself to be cheerful.

"Good morning," she says. "How can I help you?"

"Good morning," Grissom replies. "I have an appointment with Ms. Sullivan."

The woman at the desk consults her calendar. "Gil Grissom?"

"Yes."

She nods. "Have a seat. I'll let Ms. Sullivan know you're here."

Grissom sits down in the waiting area. He glances at the magazines on the table next to him with the eyes of a CSI, noting the odd collection of titles. Business, pop culture and children's magazines dominate the small surface. _Something for everyone …_

"Gil! Sorry to keep you waiting."

"Jean," Grissom says warmly, standing up to meet her. "It's good to see you."

"You, too," she says, reaching out to shake his hand. "How's Sara?"

"Fine," Grissom replies.

"And your little one?"

"She's doing great. She's in kindergarten this year."

Jean smiles fondly. "Hard to believe."

"I know."

"Well, you certainly didn't make an appointment just to update me on your family," Jean said. "Come on. We can talk in my office."

* * *

_November 2003_

Sara stood in the observation room while Grissom called Catherine. When he rejoined her, Brass was still futilely trying to get DelHomme to talk.

"She's on her way," Grissom said.

Sara nodded without looking at him. She hated that it bothered her, but she was truly upset by his immediate reaction to DelHomme's request for "the pretty one." Logically, she knew that Grissom had seen the way their suspect had watched Catherine before. She knew that Grissom was already aware of the … attraction DelHomme felt for Catherine. Yet, somehow, the fact that the first thing Grissom said to her was that "the pretty one" was Catherine made her angry.

Grissom could sense Sara's mood, but didn't know what had her so upset. He knew she was annoyed about not being able to finish the interrogation – Sara never handed off a case without a fight – but, the anger pouring off her was unusual.

He sighed. It was like they were right back to where they were during the rush case – Sara was angry, but barely willing to look at him, let alone talk to him about it. And, once again, it was as though her anger was directly connected to his management, and to her desire for special treatment as his girlfriend.

He wanted to make things right between them. He wanted to be able to be both her supervisor and her significant other. He wanted to go back to the happy place they had been in only weeks earlier. But … he had no idea how to make that happen. The only thing he knew with any certainty was that he could not fix their incredibly complex relationship without her help. And, even though she still refused to look at him, he had to try.

"Sara …"

Something in the tone of his voice caught her attention; she turned to face him. "Yeah?"

"I think we need to –"

"Hey."

Catherine came into the observation room, closing the door behind her. Completely oblivious to what she had interrupted, she inclined her head toward the double mirror.

"Has Brass had any luck?"

Grissom held Sara's eyes for a moment, then looked away, clearing his throat. "No," he said. "I think … you may be the only one who can get through to this one."

Catherine nodded. "I'm on it." She looked into Grissom's eyes. "Thanks for trusting me with this."

Grissom shrugged slightly. "What can I do? He won't talk for anyone else. Just … be careful, okay?"

She smiled slightly. "I always am."

"We'll be watching."

Sara made a strangled sound in the back of her throat. Catherine, already on her way out of the observation room, didn't notice. Grissom, who had heard her, turned to face his colleague.

"What's wrong?"

Anger boiled up inside of Sara. "Don't worry about me. Worry about Catherine."

"Sara …"

"No, Grissom," she said. "I mean it. Just … watch the interview."

Grissom looked at her, but she refused to meet his eyes again. Sighing, he finally turned back to their window into the interrogation.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

_November 2015_

During his time as a CSI, Grissom knew Jean Sullivan as a social worker who would often rescue children from horrible circumstances. He had a great deal of professional respect for her, and was not at all surprised when she took the position as the head of the children's home.

After speaking with Nick about his conversation with Sara about Jake, Grissom contacted Jean to request an appointment. If anyone can help him make this decision, it is she.

"Now," Jean says as they sit down in her office, "how can I help you?"

"You recently took in a teenager named Jake Tanner, I believe?"

"Oh, Jake," Jean sighs. "Yes, he's here. That poor kid has been through so much."

"What can you tell me about him?"

Jean frowns slightly. "Gil, you're not back at CSI, are you?"

"No." Grissom shifts in his seat. "The truth is, Jean, Sara was assigned to Jake's parents' case. She met him at the crime scene, and really felt like she connected with him. After Melinda told her that he hadn't been placed with a family …" He shrugs helplessly. "She wants us to take him as a foster."

Jean's eyebrows shoot up. "I didn't know you and Sara had any interest in becoming foster parents."

"It's not something we've discussed before now," Grissom acknowledges. "Like I said, she feels connected with this particular child."

Jean studies him appraisingly. "But, you're not convinced."

"No," Grissom admits with a slight shake of his head.

"Well, I can tell you quite honestly that Jake is a good-hearted kid who has been handed a raw deal," Jean says. "He has a very tough shell, but, I think it can be cracked. I think that if you can get beyond his tough guy persona, you'll find a really great kid."

"And, is that something you think someone like me could do?"

Jean studies him again. "Yes," she says at last. "You and Sara are both excellent judges of character. You've both learned to work with people, to bring them to their breaking point, but not to push beyond it. And, you're both experienced parents. Between the two of you, I think you could do Jake a lot of good."

"You're not just saying this so I'll take a foster child, right?" Grissom is only half-joking.

"No," Jean says, "I'm saying this so you'll take _this_ foster child. I'm saying this because I think you can make a difference in his life."

Grissom falls silent, considering her words.

"Tell you what," Jean says, "I'll let you meet him. That way, you can talk to him for a bit before you make up your mind."

Grissom nods. "Okay. But, before we do that, is there any way I can just observe him? I'd like to see the person he is when he doesn't realize anyone is watching."

Jean nods. "That can be arranged."

* * *

_November 2003_

"We're wasting time."

Nick looked at Sara and reluctantly nodded his agreement. "It does look that way."

"I don't know why –"

"Because it's all we've got," Nick interrupted."DelHomme told Catherine we could find Julie's body here. We've got to search it."

"DelHomme wanted to be with Catherine!" Sara exclaimed. "He probably thinks of this as a romantic walk in the desert!"

"Sara, _it's_ _all we've got_," Nick said again, emphasizing each word individually. "When we get a lead, we follow it. It's our job."

Sara shook her head and looked away. "It's just …"

"Our job," Nick repeated quietly. "Come on. Let's try over this way."

Sighing, Sara followed Nick toward a rock formation that had not yet been searched for Julie Waters' body. Walking around in the desert sun on a wild goose chase was not her idea of a good use of her time, but, as Nick had just repeatedly pointed out, it was her job.

* * *

They were still searching as the sun set. From what Sara could see, Catherine had been unable to get any further information out of DelHomme, who insisted that she be by his side at all times. Frustration and anger oozed out of Sara as she stood alone beside a cluster of bushes.

Grissom saw Sara standing alone, clearly taking a break from their tireless search for Julie. He watched her from a distance for a moment, wondering what she was thinking, and if she was still angry with him for letting Catherine take over the interrogation. He stood by his decision; Catherine had at least gotten them a general location of the girl's body, which was more than Brass and Sara had managed.

Grissom sighed. He needed to talk to her – to find out what she was thinking. He approached her, stopping while he was still nearly a yard away. He wanted to give her some space.

"Hey," he said.

Sara barely looked at him. "What are we doing?" she asked. "Is this logical? We have suspects picking their criminalists now."

_Ah. So, she's still upset about that_. He chose his words carefully, knowing that he had to be all business with her. He couldn't say anything that would suggest that his decision to let Catherine work with the suspect was related to anything other than the good of the team and the investigation.

"Well, we all want the same thing, Sara," he finally said. "Catherine may have a way in. It could be helpful."

"So, this looks helpful to you," Sara said with only a note of question in her voice.

"It's more than we had before," Grissom said.

"Is it?" Sara asked skeptically. "_Before_, Nick and I were going over evidence. _Before_, Brass was interrogating DelHomme. _Now_, we're all out in the middle of the desert with no body, no evidence, and the rest of the case at a stand-still."

"Enough."

Sara's head snapped up. He hadn't raised his voice, but his tone cut through her.

"This isn't about you or Nick or Catherine," Grissom said. "It's about solving a case. It's about choosing the path most likely to yield results. If you don't like the path I've chosen, Sara, that's fine. I welcome debate. However, you need to base your argument on something other than hurt feelings." He looked at her as though he had never seen her before. "Be a professional about this."

Grissom walked away, leaving Sara standing alone. She shivered, and rubbed her hands up and down her arms. She had a feeling the sudden chill had far less to do with the increasing cold that followed the sunset than it did with what Grissom had said.

"Hey."

Sara looked up as Nick approached her. "Hey," she replied.

"What's up with Grissom?"

"He thinks I'm being unprofessional."

"What are you talking about?" Nick asked with a frown.

"He thinks I'm just upset because he let Catherine take the case. That's not it at all! I just think this is a waste of time. If we were still in the lab, you and I could still be going over all the evidence we took from Julie's –"

"Whoa, wait," Nick interrupted. "Who said it's Catherine's case?"

"Wait, what?"

"I said, who said it's Catherine's case?" Nick repeated. "Sar, this is _our_ case. We were the ones who initially started investigating Julie's disappearance. Just because the suspect has a crush on Catherine doesn't mean it's her case all of a sudden."

"You're right," Sara said, brightening. "Grissom never said he was handing off the case to her. Just the interrogation."

"Exactly," Nick said. "Come on. We've got to clear this up with him."

Sara nodded. "Let's go find him."

* * *

_November 2015_

Jean takes Grissom to the dining room, where the children are having lunch.

"That's Jake over there," she says, indicating a young teenager who was sitting by himself.

"He's alone," Grissom says, stating the obvious.

"He hasn't been here long yet," Jean says. "The kids are always wary of newcomers. They learn very quickly that it's better not to get attached when you don't know how long anyone will be here."

Grissom nods, thinking that it's a very bleak outlook for such young ones to have. He has a sudden vision of the thirteen-year-old Sara learning the same lesson, and feels his heart break for the girl she must have been. _She has such a big heart … I can't believe living like that didn't break her. She's so strong … _

As they watch, a younger boy approaches Jake. He looks to be about eight years old, and very scared.

"Zach," Jean murmurs, nodding in the younger boy's direction. "He just came to us today."

"Hi," Zach says. "Can I sit here?"

"Whatever," Jake replies, moving his bag from the chair next to him so that Zach can sit down.

They eat in silence for a moment. Jake looks bored, but at ease, while Zach is nearly shaking.

"What's your name?" Jake finally asks.

"Zach."

"Are you new?"

Zach nods.

"I'm Jake," Jake offers.

"How long have you … been here?"

"About a week."

"Where are your parents?"

"Dead."

"Oh." Zach looks down at his chicken fingers. "Mine, too."

"What happened to him?" Grissom asks without looking away from the two boys.

"Absentee father, mother killed in a car crash," Jean says. "An aunt is coming for him, but she lives in Denver, so she can't make it until tomorrow. He's just here for the night."

Grissom nods.

"It sucks," Jake says to Zach.

Zach nods. "My aunt is coming for me," he says. "Is your aunt coming for you?"

Jake shakes his head. "I don't have any aunts."

"Oh. Who's coming for you, then?"

Jake shrugs. "No one, I guess."

Zach's eyes grow round. "So … you mean … Are you going to live here _forever_?"

Jake looks down at the hands that have clenched in his lap. "Yeah," he says. "I guess I am."

Grissom finally tears his eyes from the boys to look at Jean. "I want to talk to him."

She nods. "As soon as they finish lunch, I'll arrange it."

* * *

_November 2003_

Nick and Sara stood off to the side, watching as Grissom and Catherine put DelHomme in the police cruiser that would take him back to jail. As soon as the car drove away, the four CSIs joined together. Sara and Nick had the same look in their eyes – a look that told Grissom that they were in this together, and that they were not in the mood to back down from whatever plan they intended to reveal. He studied them warily, not entirely sure he wanted to hear what they had to say.

"All right, at least we can hold on to him for awhile," Catherine said.

"Well, the public defender may have him out on bail by tomorrow morning," Grissom said.

"Meanwhile, we still haven't found anything," Nick said. "Now, did anyone stop to think that this guy might just be nuts?"

"Well, until we find the body, he is all the evidence we've got," Catherine said.

"We don't even know if he did it," Sara said, pointing out what no one else was willing to admit. For all their interrogations, neither she nor Brass nor even Catherine had been able to get him to use Julie Waters' name.

"Oh, I've got a good feeling about this," Catherine said.

"So does the suspect," Sara shot back. "The only reason that we're out here today on this wild goose chase is because he wanted to hang out with you. It's … weird."

"Believe me, I'd rather follow the evidence," Catherine said. "But, if it takes having the evidence follow me –"

"The original missing person's call was mine and Sara's," Nick said in strong, measured tones, looking straight at Grissom.

_Ah. So, that's what they want. That explains the look in their eyes._

"I'm the senior CSI here," Catherine said, anger edging into her voice.

"Uh, _I'm_ the senior CSI here," Grissom said, hoping to end a fight before it could begin.

"You want it?" Catherine asked.

Grissom gave her a look. She was not playing her hand as he had expected she would.

"Hold on now," Nick said. "This is a career case, Grissom. You know Sara and I both put in for a promotion. If we work this, we're on departmental radar."

"I've got the most high-profile cases under my belt," Catherine argued. "I think that the _Sheriff_ would rest easier knowing that I was heading it up."

"It's a big department," Sara said. "There's a lot of room at the top."

"We wouldn't ask for it if we couldn't do it." Nick spoke directly to Grissom, knowing that the final decision rested with him. Arguing with Catherine would get them nowhere.

Sara followed Nick's lead and looked from Catherine to Grissom. He was looking down, considering all they had laid before him. Sara knew he would side with her and Nick. She knew he would give them the case. How could he not? He knew how important it was to them – to her. She was certain that she meant enough to him that he would do this for her.

_Now I know how a teacher must feel_. Grissom had never seen his team fight over a case like this, which spoke to how important it was to each of them. There were so many factors to consider, and not nearly enough time … he hated making big decisions so quickly …

Sara and Nick were right. It was a career case. If he let them have it, and they were successful, it would catapult them ahead. _But … are they ready for it?_

Catherine was right, too. She had worked plenty of high-profile cases. And, she would, as always have the support of her team. And, in a case like this, where the suspect was already willing to open up to her … _sort of_ … it made sense to let her continue.

_Sara is going to be so angry. She'll think I should let her have it._

With that thought, his decision was made. He couldn't let Sara's emotions dictate his decisions. Work at work, personal on their own time. They had agreed to let their relationship stay away from work, and, if he let her take this case, he was bringing his personal feelings into the lab.

He raised his head and looked at Sara.

As Sara held his gaze, her certainty that Grissom would let her and Nick finish what they had started melted away. Anger took its place, followed by a sudden hatred. In that moment, she hated everything. She hated that Grissom was her supervisor. She hated that she had agreed to go out with him at all, let alone to date him. Above all, she hated the fact that she knew him so well that she knew, without being told, that he was giving the case to Catherine. The look in his eyes was all she needed.

"Fine," she spat out, turning away from him.

Grissom looked at Nick, holding his eyes as disappointment flooded Nick's face. He turned to follow Sara to the car.

Catherine looked at Grissom, knowing that he wasn't entirely pleased with his decision. She studied him for a moment.

"You going to have my back?"

"I always have your back," Grissom replied.

Catherine nodded, knowing it to be true. "He wanted me? He's got me."

Grissom nodded. "Just … be careful with Sara and Nick."

"I have a feeling they won't want to work this one anymore."

"Don't shut them out completely. They're right; it _was_ their case in the beginning."

"If you want them to work it –"

"I want this team to work it," Grissom interrupted. "We're a team, Catherine. You know that."

She nodded. "Yeah."

* * *

Being a team seemed to be the furthest thing from anyone's mind as the case continued. Catherine called upon Greg to help her, while Sara and Nick appeared to be in their own world, investigating something completely different.

Grissom did not understand how everything could have gone so wrong, so quickly.

_It's me and Sara. We're what's changed, and it's made everything else change, too. _

For some reason, the words of Jackpot's Lieutenant Alan Brooks came back to him again and again. In speaking of change, the man had merely said, "It's a bitch."

Grissom had always known that to be true. Now, though, he was finding that it was impossible.

He sighed and ran his hands over his face. Maybe … maybe it was time to let things go back to the way they had been. Maybe it was time to remove the changes.

It wasn't what he wanted. He was certain that it wasn't what Sara wanted, either. However, it seemed like the only solution to bring their team back. It would remove the tension between them, would remove his desire to please her with the decisions he made and her sense of entitlement as his girlfriend. It was the best option.

But, oh, how he would miss their "personal" time together.

* * *

_November 2015_

"Jake?"

Jake looks up from the magazine he is reading as Jean and Grissom enter his bedroom. "Hi," he says, wariness already finding its way into his eyes.

"This is Dr. Grissom," Jean says. "He'd like to take to you for a few minutes."

"Doctor?" Jake repeats. "I'm not sick."

"I'm not that kind of doctor," Grissom replies. "I teach at UNLV."

"Oh," Jake says. "A professor."

"That's right."

"Why do you want to talk to me? I'm not in college yet."

"I believe you met my wife," Grissom says. "Her name is Sara."

"Sara Grissom? I don't think so."

Grissom smiles. It has never bothered him that Sara did not legally take his name, and he knows that she often refers to herself using both last names and will respond to being called "Mrs. Grissom" quite easily. However …

"She may have just introduced herself as Sara, or as Sara Sidle – she doesn't usually use Grissom at work."

"Sara Sidle …" Jake's face turns stormy. "I met her," he says, his voice tight. "That night."

Grissom nods. "That's what she said."

"What else did she say?"

"She's worried about you," Grissom says honestly. "She wants to know that you're okay."

"Why isn't she here, then?"

"She's in court today."

"Oh." Something flashes in Jake's eyes. "Is it about my parents?"

"No, this is an older case. One from almost a year ago, I believe."

"What happened? Was someone else killed?"

Grissom glances at Jean, who nods. "Yes," he says.

"Well, I hope she has fun talking about dead people."

Grissom frowns slightly. "That is her job."

"Yeah, she told me." He looks at Grissom for a moment. "Well, you've seen me. You can tell her that I have plenty of food here, and a nice bed. I'm sure she'll feel better."

Grissom nods, realizing that pushing this child to talk more is going to be painful for both of them. "I'll let her know."

Grissom and Jean leave the room and walk down the hall in silence.

"Well?" Jean says after they turn the corner.

"I need some more time to think," Grissom replies.

"Not that I want to influence you," Jean says with a smile, "but, he does seem to like Sara. I've never heard him talk about anyone the entire time he's been here, even when we've tried to bring people up for him to discuss."

Grissom nods. "Well, like I said, she likes him, too."

"Gil … I really think you should do this."

He smiles slightly. "So I've heard."

* * *

_November 2003_

Sara and Nick took pride in the fact that their connection between Julie's disappearance and the day shift discovery of another girl's body helped to find Julie's remains. Greg, who was working with Catherine, also helped in finding her. It was, as Grissom had hoped, a true team effort.

Once she and her things had been found, Catherine and Sara discovered blood on her stockings that DelHomme's account of events left out. Catherine went out to buy a new pair of the same stockings, then she and Sara conducted an experiment to see how the blood would have gotten from her injured ear to her feet.

"_Sixty-five dollars_?" Sara said in disbelief, staring at the packaging. "Oof."

"Capital investment," Catherine said. "Our victim hadn't made it to the show yet. Her life was all about after the show. Right guy, right meal … And, after that …"

"It's a tough way to get ahead," Sara said.

Catherine glanced at her, then looked back at the stocking she was rolling. "Your father ever tell you you were pretty?" she asked.

Sara shrugged slightly. "I guess."

"He ever tell you you were smart?"

"Yeah," Sara said with confidence. Of everything her father had said to her in moments of anger or kindness, the compliments about her intelligence always stood out.

"So, it probably never occurred to you that you wouldn't be successful," Catherine explained. "If all you ever hear is that you're gorgeous, you can let everything else fall away and … leave you in a very dangerous place."

The experiment continued, but the conversation ended. The moment of sharing, however brief, was over.

Sara never forgot it.

* * *

"Hey."

Sara glanced up as Grissom came into the office where she and Nick had been working. "Hi."

He sighed as her eyes immediately returned to her work. "Sara …"

"Yeah?"

He sat down across from her. "This isn't working."

Sara's head snapped up. "What do you mean?"

"We agreed …" He cleared his throat and lowered his voice. "Can we go somewhere to talk?"

Sara nodded. "Coffee shop around the corner?"

"Perfect."

They went to the coffee shop together and each ordered a drink. They sat down together, and Sara immediately began playing with her tea cup.

"Okay," she said. "What isn't working for you?"

"This," he said, waving his hand between them. "Us."

Sara's eyes grew huge. "What do you mean?"

"Sara, we agreed when we started this that we'd keep the personal stuff out of the lab."

"I know."

"We haven't … we can't."

"What do you mean?" she asked again.

"Honey, our personal relationship is obviously affecting our work relationship. And, what affects our work relationship affects the team. So …"

Sara knew what he was going to say, but she would not say it for him. She sat in silence, willing herself not to cry while she watched him search for the right words.

"We need to end our personal relationship," he finally said, his voice just above a whisper. "We can still be colleagues, of course … friends …"

"Friends," Sara repeated, just controlling her voice. She looked away, then looked back at him. "Sure, Griss. We'll be _friends_."

"Sara …"

She shook her head. "You know, I think we're done here. I've got a lot of work waiting for me back at the lab."

She stood and left him alone with two mugs on the table. He watched her walk out the door. His heart was breaking, but he made no move to stop her.

_It's better this way_.

* * *

_November 2015_

"Mommy, I can't. You do it."

"It's your homework, love, not mine," Sara says patiently. "You have to do it."

Anna's face screws up. "No. I can't. It's too hard."

"Anna," Sara says, bringing her daughter's eyes up to her face. "There is absolutely no reason why you can't do this. You are a very smart girl. I know you can figure out how to add these numbers."

"Is Mommy making you _think_?" Grissom asks with mock shock as he enters the room.

"Daddy had better not ruin this for me," Sara says, giving him a slight smile.

"Daddy, we're doing my math homework."

"So I see," Grissom says. He looks over Anna's shoulder at the worksheet in front of her. "This is easy addition, Anna Banana. I know you can do it. You're a very smart young lady."

"That's what Mommy said, too."

"Because it's true," Sara says.

Grissom kisses Anna's head, then touches Sara's shoulder. "Can we talk?"

Sara nods. "Anna, you keep working. I'll be with Daddy in the living room if you need my help."

"Okay," Anna says, looking at the paper with renewed determination.

"What's up?" Sara asks as she joins Grissom in the living room.

"I talked to Jake," he replies.

Sara's eyes open wide. "You did what?"

"I went to the home to meet him," he says. "After talking to you and to Nick, I thought it couldn't hurt to at least meet him."

"And?" Sara just stops herself from holding her breath.

"And … I want to try this, Sara. I want us to take him."

"You mean it?" A beaming grin spreads across Sara's face.

"Not necessarily forever," Grissom cautions. "If, after a few weeks, it's not working …"

Sara nods. "Absolutely." She crosses the room to wrap her arms around her husband. "Thank you, Gil. All I wanted was a chance."

He smiles and gently kisses her. "Well, here's your chance."


	15. Finding Normal

A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing! Things are about to get interesting…

I don't own CSI. Some inspiration and dialogue are taken from episode 409, "Grissom Versus the Volcano."

* * *

_November 2003_

Grissom's phone was already ringing as he walked into his office before his shift. He sighed. He had gone in at least an hour early for too many years – his colleagues had come to expect it of him. He had only started showing up closer to "on time" a week before …

He had the grace to feel slightly embarrassed as to why he had started coming in later than his past norm. If he was early, there was every chance he'd run into the _other_ early bird. And, the last thing he wanted was too much one-on-one time with her.

It wasn't that he expected a scene. Sara was too much a lady and too much a professional to do anything that would make either of them uncomfortable. In the week since he had requested that they go back to the way things were before, she had been coolly polite to him every time they met – which wasn't often. Aside from coming in later to avoid seeing her before the start of shift, he had made a point to assign them different cases.

He sighed as he crossed his office to answer the ringing phone. He needed to move on and get over the lingering emotions related to everything that had happened. He and his CSIs were a great team. He didn't want to let anything interfere with that – particularly not something so personal.

He finally picked up the phone. "Grissom."

"Grissom, it's Rory Atwater. Where have you been?"

"My shift doesn't start for twenty minutes," Grissom said, glancing at his watch with a frown. The Sheriff sounded … rattled.

"Oh. I should have called your cell. Listen, I need you and your best people at the Orpheus _right_ _now_. There's been an explosion – a car bomb. I'll explain more when you get here."

"We'll be right there."

Grissom hung up without waiting for a goodbye. In all the years he had worked with Sheriff Atwater, he had never heard him sound so upset. It was enough to convince Grissom that this was a critical emergency. He needed to get Catherine and to get to the Orpheus as quickly as possible.

* * *

_November 2015_

"Well, there's something to be said for company loyalty."

Grissom looks up from helping Anna with her homework as Sara walks into the room. "What do you mean?"

"All our years of service to the LVPD have worked to our advantage." Sara is grinning as she sits down with them at the kitchen table. "Social Services has fast-tracked everything in the foster parenting process. We can bring Jake home this weekend."

Grissom's surprise is obvious on his face. "So quickly? I thought it would take weeks."

"It should have," Sara explains. "But, we already have a lot of the background checks they require just from work. And, with contacts in Social Services who are willing to speak up for us, along with the fact that we already have a specific child in mind …"

Grissom nods. "Well. I guess we'd better make sure we're ready."

"Yes." Sara looks at Anna, who has been tuning out their conversation, her pencil racing across her paper as she completes her assignment. "Did you hear that, Anna? Your new foster brother is coming home this weekend!"

Anna looks up at her mother and smiles. "Which room will he have? The blue room?"

Grissom and Sara look at each other.

"It's bigger than the other spare room," Sara says.

Grissom nods. "Fine with me. Okay, Anna, as soon as you're done with your homework, we'll go check out the blue room and make sure that he'll be comfortable there."

Anna nods and turns back to her homework.

"What is she doing that has her so excited?" Sara asks. "She's practically monosyllabic!"

Grissom grins, not even attempting to hide his pride. "Science. They're identifying insects."

"In kindergarten?" Sara exclaims, twisting her neck to see the paper.

"It's all very simple," Grissom says quickly. "She's just matching the pictures of the insects with their habitats. Bees to the hive, see?"

"Lovely," Sara says. She gives Grissom a smile, and shakes her head. "My daughter loves bugs as much as her father."

"That's not true, Mommy," Anna says, finally looking up from her paper again. "I love Daddy more than I love bugs."

"And, I'm glad to hear it," Grissom says.

Sara looks away to hide her laughter.

"I'm all done," Anna says. "Can we go look at the blue room now?"

"We certainly can."

* * *

_November 2003_

"So, where was this car bomb?" Catherine asked as they drove down toward the Orpheus.

"The Sheriff wasn't very specific," Grissom said. "He sounded … scared."

Catherine's eyebrows shot up. "I didn't know he had it in him. Is this somehow affecting his career? I thought it was the only thing he'd show fear over."

Grissom chuckled slightly as the approached the hotel. Mass chaos – albeit organized chaos – awaited them. Grissom parked as close to the action as possible; they climbed out of their SUV as firefighters were still working to douse the flames that engulfed the car and EMTs were fighting to save the victims.

The Sheriff was the first one to meet Grissom and Catherine as they walked toward the scene with their kits in hand.

"Car bomb," he said in greeting. "The driver and valet are dead; another valet is critical. At least a dozen injured. I was having dinner here. I was … on my way out. If it'd gone off a couple seconds later, you'd be picking my badge up off the ground."

"Thank God you're all right," Grissom said, finally understanding why Atwater had sounded so rattled on the phone. "Sheriff, did they sweep the area for secondaries?"

"Bomb Squad says it's all clear."

"Well, I'll photo document the scene," Catherine said. "Overalls from all angles, and aerials as well."

The words had barely left her mouth when gunshots were heard. Grissom grabbed Catherine, forcing her down into a crouching position and using his body to protect her as they ducked and ran for the nearest police van. He shoved her into the open door, pressing himself against her as a human shield.

The shots ended within moments, leaving Grissom and Catherine stunned. As he looked into her face, watching her professional persona take over, leaving the scared woman behind, only one thought ran through his head. _Thank God I didn't bring Sara_.

It wasn't that he didn't trust her. It wasn't that he didn't believe her to be every bit as professional as Catherine. It wasn't that he thought she would try to act the hero and get one or both of them hurt.

It was that he didn't want to have to watch the fear leave her eyes the way he had watched it leave Catherine's. It was that he didn't want to have to see the fear there at all.

* * *

Sara sat in the layout room, feeling her anger mount with each passing minute. She and Catherine had been in the room together, working their way through a mountain of lint collected from their last crime scene … until Grissom had appeared. He had snapped out that a car had exploded, and that Catherine needed to come with him right away. He had still been in the room when he had called Nick, telling him to report straight to the Orpheus.

So many things about that moment bothered Sara that she wasn't even sure what had her most upset. Was it that Grissom had taken Catherine, leaving her alone with the lint? Was it that he had taken Catherine and Nick to the scene of an explosion, leaving her out of the exciting case?

Or, was it that he hadn't even acknowledged her presence when he had stopped to talk to Catherine?

She knew _exactly_ what bothered her the most, and the silent recognition of that fact made her blush.

"Hey, girl, you up for a homicide?"

Sara roused herself to look up at Warrick, willing her face to return to its normal color. "I suppose I can tear myself away from all this," she said, indicating the lint she was picking her way through.

"Ick," Warrick said. "What's this from?"

"Homicide," Sara replied. "We vacuumed the room where the vic was murdered." She paused. "I was working the case with Catherine, but, now that she's got her car bomb with Grissom, this has gone on the backburner."

"Do you want to work on it?" Warrick asked. "I can take this new one solo."

"No," Sara said at once. "If Catherine can move on, so can I."

"Good. I didn't really want to work it alone."

Sara rolled her eyes.

"Vartann called," Warrick continued. "He's got a floater in a hotel bathroom."

"Sounds like fun."

Warrick grinned at the total lack of enthusiasm in her reply. "You're jealous that Grissom picked Nick to help him and Cath with the car bomb, aren't you?"

"Don't be ridiculous."

Warrick laughed. "Jealous as hell! Come on. Let's see if our case is as interesting as theirs."

* * *

_November 2015_

The blue room, as its name implies, is painted blue. When Sara found out she was pregnant with Anna, Grissom immediately painted one of their spare rooms pink and one blue, in anticipation of their new baby. Anna still lives in the room that has been pink since before her birth; the blue room is an inviting guest room.

"What do you think, Anna?" Sara asks as they stand in the blue room, looking around. "Will Jake like it here?"

Anna looks around with a critical eye. "It's not very … friendly."

Sara looks at Grissom, who shrugs.

"I know!" Anna darts out of the room.

"Where is she going?" Grissom asks.

"I'm just her mother, dear; I don't live inside her head."

Grissom chuckles. "She has a point. It's not the most child-friendly room I've ever seen."

"Okay, Martha Stewart, what do you think we should do in this space?"

Choosing to ignore her sarcasm, Grissom gives the room a critical look, just as Anna did moments before. "We could put up some posters," he suggested. "I always had posters in my room when I was a teenager."

Sara looks at him in shock.

"What?" he asks defensively.

"I just can't believe you did anything so … normal."

Grissom rolls his eyes. "I didn't always decorate with butterfly cases, dear."

"The butterfly cases are the least of your creepy decorating ideas," Sara says with a grin. "Though, the poster idea is a good one. What sort of posters do you think he'd like?"

"Maybe we could take him shopping," Grissom says. "It might be better if we let him decide. What if we choose a band he's never even heard of, or a sport he hates?"

"Good point."

"This is perfect!" Anna runs back into the room, clutching a floppy-eared stuffed dog that she received as a gift from Brass on her last birthday. She places the dog on the bed just in front of the pillow.

"What are you doing, sweetie?" Sara asks.

"Now Jake will have a friend," she explains. "He won't feel so lonely in his room."

"But, Anna, don't you want to keep your dog?" Grissom asks.

She shrugs. "I have lots of animals to sleep with. I don't know if Jake has any. If I'm going to be a sister, I have to share, Dad."

"Well, I suppose you're right," Grissom agrees, looking at Sara with a smile. "You, my little Anna Banana, are going to be a very good sister."

She grins at his praise. "When will Jake be here?"

"Saturday," Sara says.

"Two whole days," Anna sighs. "That's a long time."

Thinking of Jake's lonely existence at the group home, Grissom nods. "Indeed it is."

* * *

_November 2003_

"Hey, guys," Vartann greeted Sara and Warrick as they stepped off the elevator. "Welcome to the Mediterranean."

"Yeah, thanks," Warrick said.

"It's awfully quiet," Sara observed, noting the lack of curious on-lookers in the hallway.

"Packed house for the concert," Vartann said as he led them to the room where the body had been found. "Most people are there."

"Oh."

"Amelia Ruben," Vartann said as they approached the jetted tub where the woman's body was floating face down. "Twenty-five."

"Is she a guest?" Warrick asked, already picking up his camera. "Or a guest of a guest?"

"Myles Ruben's wife," Vartann replied, watching the recognition dawn on Warrick's face.

"Who found her?" Sara asked.

"About forty minutes ago, hotel maid walked in for turn down service, called hotel security."

"Still on a timer," Sara commented as the jets in the tub shut off. She fished a wine glass out of the tub as Warrick snapped pictures.

"Does Myles know?" he asked.

"He's still on stage," Vartann replied.

"Wait," Sara said, finally catching on. "Her husband is the Myles Ruben who's giving the concert downstairs? The famous singer?"

"Welcome to the decade, Sara," Warrick chuckled.

She made a face at him. "When are you going to get over my lack of pop culture knowledge?"

"Never," he replied. "I'm just going to keep trying to get you on board with the rest of us."

"Whatever. Let's just process."

"Your wish is my command."

Sara rolled her eyes as both she and Warrick opened their kits to begin doing their job.

* * *

The car that had exploded was a rental. The man who had rented it was a US Air Marshal. Although the bomb was on a timer, the car was turned over so quickly that Grissom, Nick and Brass were certain the man who had been killed was not the target. A frayed wire showed that the timing device had been compromised.

The man who had rented the car before the Air Marshal, Roger Dunbar, was quiet, unassuming … and living a double life. He had two wives, two children – two different families, who knew nothing of each other's existence.

"So, I'm not trying to be negative, but this guy truly doesn't seem quick enough to have built a bomb," Catherine said.

"And, strange though his whole life is, I don't think he's the type that someone would want to kill," Nick added.

Grissom looked thoughtful. "Are you sure?"

"What do you mean?" Catherine asked.

"He had two wives. He claims they didn't know about each other, but, what if …"

Catherine's eyes grew round. "The first wife says she's very handy … she was the one who built the volcano for their son's science fair …"

Grissom nodded. "Let's keep looking into their tools, shall we? Something has to match the tool marks on the bomb fragments."

* * *

Amelia had not, as Sara and Warrick had guessed, drowned in her hot tub. She had died of cardiac arrest brought on by the cleaning chemicals found in her system. They had found a bottle of window cleaner at the hotel, which Myles said he used to clean the windows that he used as a "chalk board" when he worked on songs late at night.

"Okay, so, we're down to the manager, the husband and the hotel guy," Sara said as she and Warrick returned to the lab with evidence to process.

"I think just the manager and the husband," Warrick argued. "The hotel guy is right – if Amelia's a good tipper and nice to him, he had zero motive."

"True. But, _someone_ spiked her wine with window cleaner." Sara lifted two bags from the evidence. "Gloves or bottle?"

"I'll take the gloves."

"You've got it."

* * *

_November 2015_

Saturday morning is cool and overcast – not necessarily the sunny day Sara pictured for bringing Jake home. All the same, she is incredibly excited while she waits for Melinda to arrive with the newest member of their family.

Promptly at ten thirty, the car pulls into their driveway. Anna, who has been dancing from one window to the next watching for them, runs into the kitchen where Grissom and Sara are discussing what to make for Jake's first lunch with them.

"They're here!" she exclaims.

Sara and Grissom exchange a glance. Sara, for all her excitement, is suddenly terribly nervous.

"Gil," she whispers. "What if …?"

"Sara," he says, putting his hands on her shoulders, "this is what you wanted."

"I know," she says, still speaking just above a whisper.

"It's for the best," Grissom continues. "He's been miserable. He lost his parents and everything that he knew all in one night."

"I know," Sara says. "I know exactly how he feels."

"Then, you're the perfect person to make him feel better."

Sara leans in and kisses her husband. "Thank you. I'm sorry."

He smiles. "You're as bad as Anna. The anticipation is too much for you."

She gives him a lopsided smile. "You're probably right on that."

Grissom kisses her again, then releases her and grabs Anna's hand. "Come on, sweet pea. Let's go let them in."

* * *

_November 2003_

Sara stared at the screen in shock. "No … it can't be …"

"Problems in my lab?" Mandy asked as she came into the print lab.

"This doesn't seem right," Sara said. "I can't believe that …"

"Let me see," Mandy said, sitting down next to her. "Do you want me to run the prints again?"

"Yeah," Sara said. "Actually, could you print the bottle again, too?"

"Sure," Mandy agreed.

"Great. Thanks." Sara backed off to let Mandy do her job. "I just can't believe that the only prints on that bottle are Amelia's."

The two women fell silent as Mandy ran the prints again. Finally, she broke the silence.

"I'm getting the same results as you did, Sara. All the prints on the bottle are Amelia Ruben's."

Sara shook her head. "Her husband was a rich singer. She lived like a princess. Why …?"

Mandy shrugged. "Not every girl wants to be a princess."

Sara shook her head again, thinking of what the room service waiter had told her and Warrick. _Hey, I could tell they were in love, you know? But he was never around. I mean, I felt bad for Amelia. She'd have me up there four times a night. "You forgot the fork. Can you bring some salt? How about some ice?" If you ask me, I'd say she was lonely._

"Yeah," Sara said. "I guess it can get lonely spending all your time in a tower."

* * *

_November 2015_

Both Melinda and Jean have come to bring Jake to his new family. They are both all smiles as Grissom and Anna let them into the house; Jake looks around with the same wariness Grissom noticed at the group home.

"Well," Jean says. "You already know Dr. and Mrs. Grissom."

Jakes nods.

"This is Anna," Sara says. "She's our daughter."

Jake looks down at her. "Hi."

"Hi," Anna says, giving him a bright grin. "How old are you?"

"Fourteen."

"I'm five."

"Great," he says with a complete lack of enthusiasm.

"That means that you're nine years older than me."

Something flashes in Jake's eyes, but he works to hide it quickly. "You're pretty smart."

"I'm in kindergarten this year," she says. "What grade are you in?"

"Ninth."

"Okay, Anna, leave him alone for a minute," Sara says with a smile. "Why don't we show Jake around the house?"

"Okay!"

They take a tour that ends in Jake's room.

"This is your room," Sara says. "We wanted to decorate it for you, but we didn't know what you'd like. So, once you're a bit more settled, we can go out and get some posters or … whatever you'd like to have in here."

Jake shrugs noncommittally.

"I put this here," Anna says, taking the dog off the bed to show him. "His name is Mudge, like in the book."

"What book?" Jake asks.

She looks surprised. "_Henry and Mudge_. It's one of my favorites. Henry's like me; he doesn't have brothers and sisters." She smiles brightly. "Well, not anymore, now that I have you. Anyway, Uncle Jim gave him to me for my birthday, but I want you to have him. I didn't know if you have any stuffed animals, and …" She shrugs. "Sometimes, when it's dark in the house, it can be scary. But, with someone to hug, it's not so bad."

Jake swallows. "Thanks, Anna."

"Let's give Jake some time to settle in," Sara said, steering Anna toward the door. "Daddy's making lunch; I'm sure he needs your help."

"Okay." Anna bounds out of the room and down the stairs.

Sara stops in the doorway and turns toward Jake. "I know it's a lot at once," she says quietly. "And, I know that Anna is very high-energy. But, she's excited that you're here. We all are." She pauses. "Like I said, Gil is making lunch. It should be ready in about fifteen minutes. If you'd like to eat, come down. If you're not ready … I'll leave some food in the fridge for you. You can eat later, alone, if you'd rather."

He remains silent, but holds her eyes.

"I hope you decide to come down to eat with us."

With those soft words, Sara leaves him alone in his room.

* * *

_November 2003_

"Hey, guys," Nick said as he entered the locker room, where Sara and Warrick were putting their things away. "Wrap your case?"

"Yes," Sara said.

"Great. So did we. Wanna go get a drink?"

"Sounds great," Sara said. Still haunted by Amelia's suicide, she thought that a drink with her friends would be exactly the thing to take her mind off her job.

"Yeah, I'm in," Warrick agreed.

"Okay. Let's go."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, they were seated at their favorite bar, each with a bottle of beer in front of them. Warrick took a sip of his.

"So, Nicky, tell us. Who blew up the car?"

"You guys aren't going to believe this one."

"Try us."

"Well, as it turns out, the man who rented the car before the Air Marshal has two wives."

"He's been married twice?" Sara asked. "That's not so unbelievable."

"No, sunshine, not _been_ married twice. He _is_ married twice. He's at least somewhat legally married to two different women right now."

"How -?"

"He changed his middle initial on the paperwork. Anyway, long story short, Wife 1 found out about Wife 2 – and Child 2, which is what really set her off. So, after helping her son build a volcano for a science fair, she decided that building a bomb wouldn't be so hard, and rigged his car to explode."

"So, how did it end up killing someone else?"

"Faulty timing device."

Warrick shook his head. "Three innocent people dead because she decided to blow up her husband with a faulty timing device."

"So … just taking him to court wasn't an option?" Sara asked.

Nick shrugged. "Hell hath no fury, right?"

Sara rolled her eyes. "Thanks, Nicky."

He chuckled. "So, who killed the singer's wife?"

"She committed suicide," Warrick said.

Nick's eyebrows shot up. "Not one I'd be able to predict."

"Nah, neither did we," Warrick said. "She had it all, you know? Why end it?"

"She didn't, really," Sara said. "She didn't have the attention of her husband."

"Yeah, Myles even admitted that," Warrick said. He shook his head. "You'd think she'd try counseling first, though."

"Yeah," Sara said quietly. "I can't imagine not seeing a way out."

"You marry someone because you love them," Nick said. "It's the same in both our cases, really. These women married these men because they were in love. Then, they found out they'd have to share them in ways they never dreamed, and snapped. One turned her rage outward and killed three people and caused a panic. The other turned her rage inward and killed herself."

"Speaks highly of love, doesn't it?" Warrick said, taking a sip of his drink.

"Yeah," Sara muttered, taking a drink from her own bottle.

_I won't be like them. I _can't_ be like them. I'm stronger than that. I'll turn my anger and hurt and resentment into something positive and … I'll be friends with him, like he wanted. I need to be healthy about this._

"Okay, enough about work," Nick said. "Did you guys see the trailer for that new movie _The Last Samurai_? It looks awesome."

"Yeah, it does," Warrick agreed.

"It's not out yet, is it?" Sara asked.

"No, it comes out next month. You guys want to go see it?"

"Sure," Warrick said. "I could use a little old-school Japanese fighting in my life."

"Great! Sara?"

"Yeah, why not?"

Warrick grinned. "She just wants to see Tom Cruise."

Nick laughed. "Sara's not into Hollywood types, is she?"

"After this case, how could I be?"

This _is what I need. Some time with the guys … perfect_.

* * *

_November 2015_

Sara, Grissom and Anna are just sitting down for lunch when Jake walks into the room. He still looks wary, but Sara thinks that his mere presence in her kitchen is a positive sign.

"Hi," she says, hoping that Grissom and Anna will follow her lead and not make a big deal about his decision to have lunch with them.

"Hi," he replies.

"Sit by me," Anna says, patting the empty chair next to her.

Jake nods and sits down.

"Daddy made grilled cheese and tomato soup," she says. "It's my favorite lunch."

"Do you dip your sandwich in your soup?" Jake looks surprised that the words have come out of his mouth.

"No," Anna says, oblivious to his shock. "Why?"

"It's better that way." He seems resigned to explaining it to her, since he brought it up.

Grissom sets steaming bowls of soup in front of them. He and Sara watch as Jake teaches Anna to dip the corner of her sandwich into the soup before taking a bite.

"It's so good!" she exclaims. "Mommy, have you ever tried this?"

Sara smiles. "Not in a long time, baby."

"You never taught me this!" Her voice is faintly accusatory.

"Because Mommy and Daddy don't like cleaning soup off the floor," Grissom says with a sigh.

Anna shrugs and waves him off. "That's why we have Hank."

Jake lapses back into silence, watching the family scene play out in front of him. These people are like no family he's ever known … and, he's not entirely positive he wants to know them now.

Sara can see the emotions playing across his face and in his eyes. He's not as good at hiding his feelings as he might hope. She knows that he's scared. She knows that he thinks he doesn't want to be with them.

And, she knows, even if he doesn't know it yet, that what scares him the most is that he'll wake up tomorrow and find that they don't want him anymore.

"You'll have to tell us what you like to eat, Jake," Sara says, hoping that this implies enough _future_ to make him feel more at ease. "I don't want us to make you something you don't want or like."

"Mommy doesn't eat meat," Anna says. "But, she lets me and Daddy have it if we want. Do you like meat?"

"Yes," Jake says.

Grissom looks at Sara with a smile. "You are so out-voted."

Sara makes a face at him. "You carnivores can do whatever you want, as long as I don't have to be a part of it."

Jake looks between them, amazed at the easy banter. Did his parents ever talk to one another like that? He doesn't remember. He doesn't think so.

When lunch ends, Jake retreats to his new room. He sits down on the bed, and looks out the window at the sunny backyard – the earlier clouds have disappeared. He exhales slowly and looks down at the bed. Anna's dog looks up at him.

He drops his hand onto its head, running his fingers over its soft fur. Without really thinking about it, he picks the dog up and hugs it to his chest.


	16. Helping

A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing! We hope you enjoy this chapter.

I don't own CSI. Some inspiration and dialogue are taken from episode 410, "Coming of Rage."

* * *

_December 2003_

Brass surveyed the scene, taking in the teenager's dead body and the three blood-spattered walls with practiced eyes. He finally looked at Grissom.

"Help me out here," he said. "Any ideas on this one?"

Grissom, from his position crouching next to the body, looked at the victim's clothes. "Well, based on his pants around the knees, I would say … crime of passion," he said with a slight shrug. He stood up and surveyed the blood that seemed to be everywhere – both on the walls and around the body, concentrated around the victim's head. "Given the brutality of it … seems to me an act of rage."

"Yeah, well, most homicides are," Brass replied. "You want to call in some help on this one?"

Grissom crouched down next to the body again, brushing the victim's hair aside to look at the gash that was source of a great deal of the blood around him. He had certainly seen wounds like this before … "See that mark on his head?"

"What you call a _mark_, I have a feeling Robbins is going to call _cause of death_," Brass said.

"Well, whatever you call it, it looks like it could have been made by a hammer," Grissom said.

Brass exhaled. "Which gives us about fifty suspects in the immediate vicinity."

"Yeah."

"Okay," Brass said. "Let me know when your helpers get here."

Grissom smiled faintly. "Will do."

Brass walked outside to talk to the site foreman, leaving Grissom alone with the body. He studied the wounds for several long moments. There were multiple injuries that all seemed to have been made by a hammer. He sighed. This boy was so young … too young to have met with such a violent end.

To stop himself from going down a rather melancholy, philosophical path, Grissom focused on the injuries. While not common, they weren't _uncommon_, either. In fact, he had used similar injuries in a lecture that he gave a several forensics conferences one summer. _Double murder in a garage …_

A twisted smile crossed his face. He knew exactly which CSI he wanted as his helper. He just wasn't sure that he could trust himself alone with her – not yet. Not while his emotions were still so close to the surface.

He exhaled as he took out his phone. He wanted to work with her. He wanted to be close to her. Even if he could never be close to her in _that_ way again, he wanted to at least have the pleasure of being in her company … even if another person would be right there, working alongside them.

He placed the call.

* * *

"Brown."

"Warrick, it's Grissom. Is Sara with you?"

"Yeah, she's right here," Warrick said, looking across the layout room table at Sara, with whom he had been going over evidence from a recent case.

"Great. Put me on speaker."

"You've got it."

Sara looked at Warrick questioningly as he pressed the button for speaker phone and put his phone down on the table.

"Okay, Grissom, go ahead."

"Hi, Sara."

"Hi, Grissom," she replied, still looking at Warrick quizzically. He shrugged.

"I'm at a homicide scene with Brass," he said. "A kid was killed at a construction site. I'm going to need both of you for back up."

"Okay," Warrick said. "We're working on our evidence from the Anderson case. We'll put it on hold and meet you there."

"Good. Sara, you're in?"

"I'll make sure Warrick gets there," she said.

Warrick made a face and shook his head, but Sara merely smiled.

"Good," Grissom said again. "I'll be waiting."

He clicked off, and Warrick picked up his phone again.

"Girl, you are so not driving."

"I have to now," she teased. "I promised our boss I'd get you there in one piece."

Warrick shook his head. "You'd have a better shot at that if you let me drive."

Sara laughed as she went to get her kit. "I'll meet you at the car."

* * *

_December 2015_

On his third day with the Grissom family, Jake attends his first day of school. It is not the school he attended before his parents died, or even the one he attended while at the group home. Las Vegas is home to quite a few public high schools, each serving its own neighborhood; his parents' home, the group home, and the Grissoms' home are each in different neighborhoods.

Attending a different school because he lives across town does not bother Jake. Attending a private school, however, does.

"Can't I just go to whatever public school you have here?" he asks as Sara presents him with his uniform.

"We're sending you to the same school Anna attends," Sara says. "She'll be in the lower school, and you'll be in the upper school, of course, but, well …" She shrugs. "Based on all the research we've done, it's the best school in the city."

"Public schools are fine," he mumbles.

"I'm not saying you're wrong," Sara says fairly. "Gil and I both went to public schools." She smiles faintly. "To be honest, he's the one who pushed for Anna to go to the private school. In the end …" She shrugs again. "He's the academic, you know? When it comes to education, I can't argue with a teacher."

"I get why you're sending your daughter there," Jake says. "But, why me?"

Sara looks surprised that he would ask. "We want you to go to a good school," she says as though it is common sense. "Anna isn't the only one whose future matters, Jake. Yours is just as important as hers."

He exhales a long breath. Sara studies him, knowing that she's dropped a lot on him only three days into his stay.

"Anna really likes her classmates," she finally says. "I'm sure you'll like the other kids."

"Yeah," he says sarcastically. "I'm sure they're just like me. I'm sure they watched their dad beat up their mom every night, too."

Sara maintains eye contact, looking at him levelly. "You'd be surprised what other people have in their past," she says evenly. "Everyone has skeletons in their closets."

Jake frowns slightly, but doesn't press her. Sara, for her part, does not explain anything further. It is not time. Jake is not ready to hear about it.

"Gil will drive you and Anna to school in the morning," she says. "They leave at eight. Make sure you're ready." She turns to leave, but pauses in the doorway, giving him a smile. "Good night."

He nods, but doesn't repeat the words. Sara nods back, and leaves his room, gently closing the door behind her.

* * *

When Jake walks into the kitchen the next morning, Grissom and Anna are the only ones he sees. He glances around before sitting down at the table with Anna.

"Where's Sara?" he asks. In the short amount of time he has spent with them, he has learned that his new foster parents prefer to be called by their first names.

"At work," Grissom replies.

"Mommy works all night long," Anna says. "She sleeps when I'm at school and Daddy's at work."

"Jake will be at school, too," Grissom says.

"We won't be in the same building," she says anxiously. "Will you be all right without me?"

"Yeah," Jake says, feeling the urge to smile for the first time in what feels like years. "I think I'll be all right."

Anna looks relieved. "Good."

Grissom glances at the clock. "Okay, we need to leave in fifteen minutes. Make sure you both have everything you need and that you've brushed your teeth."

Jake shoots him a look of pure annoyance. Grissom smiles slightly.

"I'm used to a younger crowd."

Jakes rolls his eyes. "Whatever." He slides off his chair to get his backpack.

Grissom watches him go and sighs. _He's nervous … let it go._

* * *

_December 2003_

Brass was the first member of the LVPD that Warrick and Sara saw as they arrived at the scene. He was busy arguing with the site foreman; they left him alone and continued to the house. Crime scene tape closed off one entrance; they ducked under it and wound their way through the skeletal building until they found Grissom in the room with a dead body. He looked up from photographing as they entered the room.

"Take a look at his head," he said. "Tell me what you see."

Warrick, who was closer, crouched down next to the body. He pulled back the victim's collar to reveal the wounds Grissom had been studying since before calling them. Sara leaned forward to get a better look.

"Definitely blunt force," Warrick said.

Sara felt an odd sense of déjà vu. The injuries were remarkably like the ones Grissom had shown during a seminar she had attended while working in San Francisco … "That's a hammer head," she said.

Grissom looked at her, holding her eyes longer than was strictly necessary. In that moment, she knew that he remembered that conference just as well as she did.

"I thought you might say that," he said.

Sara broke the eye contact before it could become uncomfortable and walked away under the pretense of studying the blood patterns on the walls.

"Well, we know that people often commit crimes in places they're familiar with," Grissom said, giving Sara a significant look.

She quirked an eyebrow and ducked out of the room.

Men were milling around outside the house, obviously waiting for their boss to tell them to get back to work. Every single one of the construction workers had a hammer hanging from his tool belt. Sara felt her heart sink. She turned back into the room where Grissom was watching her.

"You've gotta be kidding me!"

He gave her a look that, although somewhat teasing, said he was most definitely _not_ kidding her. Sara glared at him, but went to find Brass. She wanted a uniform to help in the hammer collection.

Grissom turned away from Warrick to begin photo documenting the blood on the walls. As much as he had wanted Sara with him … he was glad to be in the room with Warrick. With Warrick, there were no emotions, no expectations, no awkward moments, no fears … It was simple. It was easy.

It was exactly what he wanted in that moment.

* * *

"Hi."

Grissom looked up as Sara came back into the room, and then, after acknowledging her with a slight smile, went back to processing the body. "How did it go with the hammers?"

"Oh, you know, a little sexual harassment is always a high point in my day."

Grissom's head snapped up. "What?"

"We're at a construction site, Griss," Sara said with a sarcastic smile. "What more could I expect?"

Shame filled him. _I should have sent Warrick to do that job_. "I'm sorry, Sara. I didn't think …"

"Hey, it's no big deal," she said. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm pretty good at taking care of myself."

"Yeah," he said quietly. "Still …"

She shook her head. "Forget about it. Should I go back to the lab to start processing the hammers?"

"No," he said. "Warrick can do that."

She quirked an eyebrow.

"They're bringing in the scent dogs," he said. "I'm hoping we can get one to follow the trail of the fabric our vic is holding."

Sara nodded, noting the scrap of material clenched in the hand of their victim. "I've seen them work with samples that small before."

"You like animals, right?" Grissom said.

She nodded.

"Stick around."

"Okay," she agreed. "What still needs to be done right now?"

"Perimeter."

"I'm on it."

Grissom exhaled as she walked out of the room. He knew it was silly, and that it hardly made up for the earlier task he had given her, but he felt slightly better after asking her to stay to see the scent dogs. He knew she loved them. It was a small consolation, but he hoped it would help.

* * *

_December 2015_

Jake walks into the sunny lunch room with the rest of his classmates. His morning has not been particularly good or bad – although the teachers have introduced him in each class, and the other students have looked at him curiously, no one has approached him.

His classmates all look very much the same to him. Aside from the uniforms that give the classrooms a sense of homogeny, the others all have similar haircuts, similar accessories, and similar looks in their eyes. The bright, sparkling students in this school have never known any real hardship. They have lived sheltered lives, and have developed a sense of entitlement that gives them an attitude that Jake finds rather threatening. Fearing contact with these rich, spoiled teenagers, Jake is grateful they have left him alone thus far.

The cafeteria, though, is a new test of his loner endurance. He gets his food as quickly as possible, and seeks out a small table tucked away in a corner of the room. He sits with his back to the wall so he can observe his classmates.

He has barely begun to eat his lunch when a girl approaches him.

"Hi," she says.

"Hi," he replies cautiously.

"Can I sit down?"

Jake shrugs. "I guess."

She sits down and smiles at him. "I'm Molly."

"I'm Jake."

"Yeah, I was in history with you when Mr. Anderson introduced you."

"Oh."

"Did you just move here?"

"Sort of," Jake mumbles.

"Well … I can show you around, if you'd like. I've lived in Vegas all my life."

"Have you?"

"Yup. Same house and everything. My little sister and brother go to school here, too. They're in the lower school. Do you have any siblings?"

"Sort of," he says again, thinking of Anna.

She frowns. "You're not making any sense. Are you trying to make fun of me?"

"No," he says quickly. "No, I'm not. I'm just …" He sighs. "Things are … complicated."

"Oh. Well, maybe –"

"Molly! There you are!"

Another girl runs up to their table, her blond hair flying behind her.

"Hi, Shannon," Molly says. She turns to Jake. "This is my friend, Shannon. Shannon, this is Jake. He's new. He's in my history class."

"Hi," Shannon says, barely looking at him. "We have a meeting," she says to Molly, giving her a pointed look.

"A meeting?" Molly asks blankly.

"Yes," she says forcefully, grabbing Molly's arm to pull her up from her seat. "A meeting. Right now."

"Okay," Molly says, clearly bewildered. "I'll see you later, Jake."

He nods and watches Shannon drag Molly away. She has her head close to Molly's, and is clearly whispering to her. Molly's head pops up and looks back in Jake's direction for a moment before Shannon pulls her out of sight.

"Great," Jake mutters. "Word must be out already."

* * *

Jake doesn't see Molly until the end of the day, when he is walking out of the building. She approaches him rapidly, her cheeks flushed.

"You lied to me," she says.

"What are you talking about?"

"You told me you just moved here. Shannon said that's not true. She said you're living with the Grissoms … that you're their …"

"Foster child?" Jake supplies. "Yeah. Can't even say the word, can you?"

She stares at him.

"That's right," he says. "I told you I just moved here. Well, I did. I've never lived in this part of town before. But, Shannon's right, too. I'm the Grissoms' foster child. So, their daughter is my foster sister." He exhales. "Explain to me how I lied to you again?"

Her eyes narrow. "What did you do to wind up in foster care?"

He laughs mirthlessly. "Why don't you ask Shannon? She seems to know everything about me."

"I'm asking _you_," Molly says.

"Yeah, well, I don't want to talk about it. Especially not with someone like _you_."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that you're just liked everyone else in this school. You're a rich, spoiled bitch who wants nothing to do with a poor, troubled kid like me."

Tears fill Molly's eyes. "How can you say such horrible things?"

"You know what? When you've seen what I've seen – when you really know me – come back and talk to me." He looks up and sees Anna waving to him. "I'm out of here."

Anna meets Jake halfway.

"Mommy's over there," she tells him.

He nods and follows her to her mother.

"Did you have fun today?" Anna asks. "I told my friends that you'd be there, and that they should tell their brothers and sisters to be nice to you."

"Oh," Jake says. _Well, that's how they found out. Thanks, Anna._

"Hi, guys," Sara greets them as Jake and Anna approach her. "Who was that you were talking to, Jake?"

"Some girl," he mumbles.

"That's Molly," Anna supplies. "She's Lizzie's sister."

Jake sighs. _It would be her friend's sister._

"Oh," Sara says, apparently content with that small amount of knowledge. "Did you enjoy your first day of school, Jake?"

"It was what I expected," he says.

Sara nods slightly. "It'll get better."

"Doubt it."

She frowns. "Good attitude, Jake."

"If these stuck-up snobs don't like my attitude, they can go –"

"Okay," Sara says quickly, looking from him to Anna. "Let's get you two home so you can do your homework."

"Great," Jake mutters. "I can hardly wait."

* * *

_December 2003_

The scent dog and her handlers arrived right on time. Sara was lured away from the perimeter to greet them. She patted the dog on the head.

"This is Penny," the officer holding her leash said.

"Hi, Penny," Sara said, scratching behind her ears. "Grissom is with the body now. He's got the scent exemplar."

"Great," the officer said, following Sara into the house. "I'm Lisa, by the way."

"Sara," Sara replied.

They found Grissom who smiled in greeting. He pointed to the scrap of red cloth in the victim's hand.

"I think our vic got a little piece of his killer."

"Well, Penny's ready to help you find the person who was wearing that," Lisa replied.

"Great." Grissom carefully pulled the material from the victim's hand and held it up for the dog to sniff.

"Distinguish," Lisa commanded. She looked at Grissom. "You ready to run?"

Grissom pointed back at Sara, who was standing behind him. "She does all my running."

"Thanks," she said, giving him a slightly sarcastic smile.

As much as she might complain about all the hard work he was putting her through, she would much rather chase the dog than continue to process the scene.

And …

She had a feeling he knew that.

* * *

Between Sara's dog chase and Warrick's hammer testing, they found Gregory Curtwell, the owner of the hammer used to bash in the victim's head. Although he claimed to never have seen the victim before, he could identify a picture Sara had of the owner of the red shirt that had been torn – Archie had found it on a mall security camera.

"That's my kid sister, Ashley," he said, staring at her picture. "Why? What's she got to do with it?"

"You tell us," Brass said.

Gregory ran his hand over his face. "I have no idea."

"Can we talk to her?"

"Yeah, sure. I'll get her here now."

* * *

Ashley seemed shaky when she came into the police station. She was shown to an interrogation room to wait; Brass and Warrick watched her for a moment from the observation room.

"She looks … nervous," Warrick said.

"Almost traumatized," Brass observed.

Warrick shook his head. "We've been assuming that the fabric was torn from her shirt as she killed the vic. What if it went the other way around? What if _she's_ our initial victim?"

"All right, I'll buy it," Brass said. "Get Sara in here. She'll probably feel more comfortable talking to a woman."

* * *

_December 2015_

Jake walks down the hall to his last period class with his eyes downcast. Everyone in his freshmen class has heard, so it seems, that he is the Grissoms' foster child. And, these sheltered, petted teenagers have only seen foster children on movies and made for TV specials; they only know them as runaways and drug addicts. Because this is all they know, and because Jake is so quiet and withdrawn, they think that is what he is. They are afraid of him.

Jake, however, does not see their fear. He sees the hostility and rudeness they use to mask it. As he told Sara the day before, it is no better or worse than he expected.

He turns the corner and feels something heavy connect with his shoulder. He jumps back and looks up into the face of a towering upper classman.

"Hey!" the other boy yells. "Watch it!"

"Sorry," Jake says.

The boy shoves Jake back into the lockers behind him. "You … you're new here."

"Yeah," Jake says, his temper rising. "What's it to you?"

The older boy closes in on him, standing well inside Jake's personal space. "You're that freaky kid aren't you? The one who ran away from home and found some nice family to take him in?"

"Nope, not me," Jake says, his head going down instinctively as his shoulder smacks against his opponent's. "I'm definitely not a freak."

"You're a freak if I say you're a freak." They begin to circle each other, still knocking into each other's shoulders.

Jake falls back on the oldest, most effective line he can think to use in this situation. "That's not what your mom said."

"You asshole!"

The other boy slams into Jake, throwing him backwards. Jake pushes him back, and, within seconds, an all-out fight has begun. Mindless of the other students who have gathered to watch or the teachers who are yelling at them to stop, they continue punching and kicking each other.

An arm comes across Jake's chest, pulling him back. His opponent, too, is being restrained. The two teachers who have broken up the battle take the boys to the assistant principal's office, while two other teachers shoo the onlookers to class.

Jake exhales and shakes his hair out of his eyes. It is not going to be a good first week of school.

* * *

_December 2003_

"Hi, Ashley," Sara said as she walked into the interrogation room. "I'm Sara Sidle. I work with the crime lab."

"Hi," Ashley said in a very small voice.

As she crossed the room, Sara looked at the scared teenager and felt her heart break. It was like seeing Susanna Kirkwood again. Susanna, though, had been too scared to tell Sara what had happened. She had been too terrified to seek help, and Sara had been too late to give it. With Ashley … it was like being handed a second chance. And, this time, Sara did not intend to fail like she had with Susanna.

She sat down across from Ashley. "I'm just here to ask you some questions," she said.

"About … last night?"

Sara nodded. "Yes. Where were you?"

"Not at home," Ashley admitted.

"Can you be more specific? Who was with you?"

"No one," she said.

"You were all alone?"

"I was alone all weekend," Ashley said.

"Why?"

"My parents died in a car accident four years ago," she said.

"I'm very sorry," Sara said. "Your brother, Gregory, is your guardian, right?"

"Yeah."

"And … he left you alone all weekend?"

"He goes away a lot."

"Okay." Sara's heart broke again for this poor little girl. "Why don't you tell me what happened last night?"

Ashley began a slow, halting story about cutting through the construction site on her way home and running into Brian Haddick, a boy she knew from school. He fed her a story about a lost cat, and, when she tried to help him find it, he got her into the half-built house and tried to rape her. She was saved by a mystery man, who bashed Brian over the head with a hammer and gave her time to run for it.

"Okay," Sara said as Ashley dissolved into tears. "Okay. You're safe now, Ashley. No one can hurt you."

Ashley drew a shaky breath. "Can I see my brother now? Please? I want to see Gregory."

"I'll go see if I can find him," Sara said.

She left the interrogation room; Brass and Warrick met her in the hallway.

"She's covering for her brother," Brass said. "Up close and personal like that, she _had_ to see the assailant's face."

"Wouldn't you?" Sara said. "She doesn't want to lose him now."

"That's what I said, too," Warrick agreed. He looked at Sara, who was fighting to keep her emotions from her face. "You okay, Sara?"

"I'm fine," Sara said quickly. She shook her head. "Those are never my favorite statements to take, you know?"

"Why don't you go back to the lab?" Warrick said. "Tell Grissom what you learned. I'll find the girl's brother and make sure she gets home safely."

Sara nodded. "Thanks, Warrick."

"Anytime."

* * *

Grissom was in his office when Sara arrived. He looked up as she sat down.

"How did it go with the girl?" he asked.

"She identified the vic," Sara said. "His name is Brian Haddick. They went to school together. She said she was cutting through the construction site, he cornered her, tried to rape her, and had his head bashed in by her hammer-wielding savior."

"Did she happen to know her savior?"

"No," Sara said, suddenly feeling weary. "Brass and Warrick think it had to be her brother, though."

"Well, his hammer had the vic's blood on it," Grissom said.

Sara nodded. "I just … feel bad. Their parents are dead; he's her only family."

"Don't, Sara," Grissom said. "Don't get emotionally involved. You'll lose perspective."

Sara nodded. "Yeah. I know." She looked away. "I just … I really want to help this girl, Griss. I want to make a difference."

"You already have," Grissom said.

Sara's eyes snapped back to his face.

"You listened, and you didn't judge her. You let her talk out everything that happened to her. And, Sara, I know that made all the difference in the world to her."

Sara smiled for the first time since coming into his office – for the first time around him since he had broken up with her.

"Thanks, Griss. That … means a lot."

He returned her smile.

* * *

_December 2015_

"Sara?" Grissom gently kisses her cheek. "Wake up, honey."

Sara struggles to open her eyes. She is sure she fell asleep only moments before; he cannot possibly be home from work so soon.

"Good afternoon, sleepyhead," Grissom teases.

"What time is it?" Sara asks.

"Almost time to pick up the kids."

Sara sighs and rolls onto her back. "How can that be? I just went to bed."

"At least eight hours ago," Grissom says with a smile. "I know you were home on time this morning."

Sara nods. "I'm so tired," she says with a jaw-splitting yawn.

"Well, taking on another child is difficult," Grissom says.

"_You're_ not exhausted."

"I'm tougher than you are," he teases.

Sara tosses her pillow at him. "You're mean."

The phone rings, interrupting anything Grissom would have said back to her. He leans across her to pick it up.

"Hello? … Yes, this is Dr. Grissom. … Is Anna – oh. … What? … Okay. … Yes, I understand. … We'll talk to him. … I'm sorry, Dr. Jennings. This won't happen again. … Thank you for calling."

Sara looks at Grissom with huge eyes. "What happened?"

Grissom exhales. "Jake's been suspended for three days."

"Suspended? Why? What happened?"

"He got into a fight."

"Oh, no."

Grissom sighs. "Sara …"

"Don't, Griss. We knew when we took him in that there would be issues … lingering pain. But, we agreed to help him. And, that's what we're going to do."

"How?" Grissom asks bleakly. "I don't know anything about dealing with troubled teenagers, Sara."

"We need to …" She trails off. "Be firm. Tell him that we won't tolerate this sort of behavior."

"Obviously."

"And, we won't threaten him."

Grissom raised an eyebrow.

"To threaten to take him out of the school would only encourage the behavior," she explains. "He's got a thing against private schools. And, to threaten to send him back to the group home …" She shook her head. "Never. Never would I threaten a child with something like that."

"Okay," Grissom says. "You're the boss."

She gives him a coy smile. "And, don't you know it."


	17. Adjustments

A/N: We hope you enjoy this chapter! Thanks for reading and reviewing!

I don't own CSI. Some inspiration and dialogue are taken from episode 409, "Coming of Rage."

* * *

_December 2015_

"I'm not going to yell at you."

Jake looks at Sara in surprise. Upon their arrival home from school, Grissom sent Anna on a cockroach-feeding task. Once she was occupied, he and Sara took Jake into the kitchen, where the three of them sat down together at the table.

"You're not?" he asks.

Sara shakes her head. "I don't know why you go into this particular fight. But, I do know that it can be difficult to adapt to a new school – three schools in one year is even harder. And, I know that sometimes it can be hard to think of the consequences of your actions."

"I don't care if they suspend me!" The words burst from him before he could stop them. "I don't care if they _expel_ me! I don't care about that dumb ass school, or about those dumb ass kids!"

"Well, _I_ care," Sara says.

"We both do," Grissom amends. "We care about you, Jake. Part of that is wanting the very best for you. And, this school –"

"Is the best," Jake interrupts without feeling. "So I've heard."

"Okay," Sara says, her patience starting to falter, "here's how this is going to go. You're not getting out of going to that school. So, you can either make the best of it, or force yourself into staying here in the house because you're suspended. And, believe me, we've got _plenty_ of work around the house you can do during your suspensions."

"That's child labor!" Jake exclaims. "You can't make me work."

"We're well aware that we can't _make_ anyone do anything," Grissom says. "But, don't forget, we've both worked in law enforcement. This is an example of a time we're going to enforce the rules. If you break them, there are consequences."

Jake slumps down in his chair. "This is a bunch of bullshit."

"Okay, rule number one," Sara says. "We don't tolerate that kind of language in our house – or, from our family. I don't want Anna to hear words like that at home, and, well …" She shrugs. "It makes you sound stupid."

Jake stares at her.

"It does," she says. "Like you can't come up with a better word to say."

"Whatever," Jake mutters.

"Rule number two," Grissom says, glancing at Sara. "You will show respect for adults – that includes me, Sara, and your teachers."

"I didn't get suspended for beating up a teacher," Jake says.

"Agreed," Grissom says. "But, when you chose to fight at school, you chose to break the rules the school had set for you – which is a manner of showing disrespect for the teachers and administrators who created them."

Jake looks at them. "So, basically, anything that I could potentially do wrong in the future is covered by rule number two?"

"Pretty much."

He sighs. "This is –"

Sara raises an eyebrow.

"Ridiculous," he finishes.

"You've been handed a raw deal," Sara says. "We get that. We're not here to make your life worse, okay? Just control your temper when you're in school, and you'll be fine."

This time, Jake raises an eyebrow.

"That's your immediate goal," Sara says. "After you can achieve that … we'll see where to go next."

* * *

_December 2003_

"Doc Robbins says the victim was paralyzed within the first few hits," Grissom announced as he walked into the break room, where Warrick and Sara were waiting for him. "One of the hammer blows severed his spine."

"There were way more than a few hits on that kid," Warrick said. "Why keep hitting him once he was immobilized?"

"Well, our assailant didn't just keep hitting him after he was immobilized. He kept hitting him after he was dead," Grissom said. "Autopsy revealed multiple post-mortem bruises."

Sara shook her head. "Why keep hitting him after he was dead?"

Grissom shrugged. "You're Gregory Curtwell. You just saw this kid attacking your sister. Would you have enough rage to keep hitting him after he was dead?"

Sara considered the question. "Maybe."

Warrick shook his head. "I'd want to make sure my sister was all right."

"She told me she ran as soon as her defender starting hitting Brian," Sara said.

"Exactly," Warrick said. "If I knew that my sister had just been attacked and started running, I'd try to find her as soon as I knew the kid wasn't going after her again."

"Which would have been the point when he was paralyzed," Grissom said.

"Well, Sanders said the DNA from Brian's knuckles wasn't Gregory's or Ashley's," Warrick said. "So, Gregory could have had a helper. Maybe he did run after Ashley, but his accomplice stayed to … keep hitting Brian?"

"Okay," Grissom said with a nod. "We're looking for another suspect."

Sara looked between them, silently agreeing with their points. "Can we go back to the crime scene? Maybe there's evidence of another attacker that we missed the first time."

Grissom nodded. "Get your kits."

* * *

_December 2015_

"You look terrible. Are you okay?"

Sara gives Hodges a look that tells him to back off. He falls silent and buries his head it the report in his hands.

"Hey," Sara says as she walks into the layout room. "Your text said you found something?"

"Yeah, I …" Nick's voice trails off as he looks up at her. "Are you feeling all right, Sar?"

"Do I really look that bad?" she asks. "Hodges just told me I look terrible."

"You look a little pale," Nick replies.

She yawns. "I'm tired, I guess. This having two kids thing is getting to me."

Nick smiles. "You'll get used to it."

"I hope so."

"How are things going with Jake?"

"His suspension ends tomorrow," Sara says. "Finally. It's been harder on me than on him – I have to be awake during the day while he's home. I don't get to sleep until Grissom gets home from school."

"No wonder you're tired."

"Yeah, you're right." She sighs. "So, what did you find?"

"Well, I was going back over the clothes …" Nick pulls a blood-spattered shirt out of the evidence box on the table. "Do you see the void here? I'm trying to find a way to explain it other than …"

Nick keeps talking, but Sara barely hears him. The smell of the shirt is no stronger than any other bloody shirt she has processed, but, for some reason, it turns her stomach. She looks from the shirt to Nick with wild eyes.

"Hey," he interrupts his own explanation, "are you all right?"

"I … don't know," Sara admits. "I feel … I'm going to go sit down for a minute, okay? I'll be right back."

"Take your time," Nick says, looking at her with concern. "If you want me to call Grissom to pick you up, I will."

"No, don't do that," Sara says as she leaves the room. "I'll be fine."

* * *

_December 2003_

The house was still and quiet when they arrived – much like it must have been when Ashley first happened upon Brian. Sara shivered at the thought. The poor girl … At least she had been spared the brutality of a rape. Sara only wished that Brian had been simply _stopped_ rather than killed.

"Okay," Grissom said. "What does the blood tell us?"

Sara smirked. These were the times that her physics degree got to shine. She began taking measurements.

"Seventy-two degree impact angle puts Brian _here_ for the initial blows," she said, stepping into place. In her mind's eye, she saw him being hit with a hammer as he shoved Ashley against a wall.

She read the measurements for a blood drop to Warrick, who fed them into his computer and gave her the next angle.

"So, Brian was crawling," she said.

"That must be where his neck was exposed," Warrick said.

"He ended up here on the floor with his spinal cord severed," Grissom said, crouching down next to the blood pool.

"Well, if he was laying down, this looks too high to be spatter," Warrick said, indicating blood on the wall. "Must be cast-off."

"On three walls," Sara said, her eyes traveling around the room. "Assailants tend to move only in reaction to the target; Brian was stationary. Why would the attacker keep moving? It doesn't make sense."

"It does if there were three hammers and three attackers," Grissom said.

Sara turned to him with a frown. "Ashley said one person saved her."

"I know what she told you," Grissom said. "But, the evidence is telling us a different story."

"Maybe …" Sara trailed off.

"Maybe she made the whole thing up," Warrick said.

"You saw her, Warrick. You saw how shaken up she was."

"I also thought she was covering for someone right from the beginning," he said. "So did Brass. We thought it was her brother, but, maybe it was someone else."

"More than one someone," Grissom said. "Maybe her brother _and_ someone else."

Sara shook her head. "I just can't …"

"People lie, Sara. You know that."

"Yeah," she said quietly, "I do."

"All right," Grissom said. "We've got something new to work with. Let's go back over all the evidence we have. We've got to come up with a new suspect."

* * *

_December 2015_

"Hey," Sara says as she slides onto the chair across from Catherine. "Sorry I'm late."

"Not a problem," Catherine says. "You're hardly late at all. I've only had time to order coffee." She smiles. "I'm excited you found time to have breakfast with me at all, now that you're a mother of two."

Sara smiles. "That's part of why I wanted to talk to you."

Their waitress appears to take their order. Once they've placed it, Catherine turns to Sara with her eyebrows raised in a question.

"What's up, Sara?"

"I don't know what to do with a teenager," Sara blurts out. She blushes. "I was so confident about it – I convinced Grissom we could do it – and now …" She shakes her head. "I had no idea what I was getting into with this."

Catherine looks thoughtful as she takes a sip of her coffee. "Tell me about him."

"He's … quiet," Sara says. "Withdrawn. That much I expected after all that he's been through."

Catherine nods.

"We're sending him to Anna's school."

Catherine nods again. Lindsey attended the school as well; Catherine recommended it to Sara and Grissom during their school search.

"He's less than thrilled with going there," Sara says. "He's got this thing about private schools."

"Linds was the same way," Catherine says. "She didn't start there until middle school, you know. She didn't want to leave her friends or her old school, but …" She shrugs. "She got over it. Jake will, too."

"He doesn't want to befriend anyone," Sara says. "He has this serious prejudice against 'rich kids.'"

"Not all the kids are rich there," Catherine says fairly.

"I know that. But, to him, private school equal rich parents."

Catherine nods. "He'll get over it," she says again.

"He got into a fight on his second day."

"Ouch," Catherine says, making a face. "Suspension?"

"Three days."

"I'll bet that was fun for you and Grissom."

"I'm still tired," Sara admits.

Catherine smiles.

"I forced him into a lot of cleaning projects while he was home," she says. "And, I made it clear that no matter what he does, I'm not taking him out of the school – so, basically, he can quit trying so hard."

"What other rules have you laid down for him?"

"No language in the house, and respect for elders."

"No curfew?"

Sara shrugs. "Why bother? He doesn't go out."

"Okay. Save it for when it comes up, I guess."

"I'm treating him the way I treat Anna, for the most part," Sara says. "Homework as soon as he gets home from school, dinner as a family …" She shakes her head. "I just … I don't know what to do, Cath."

"Sara, you're doing fine," Catherine says. "You've only had him a week, and you already _get_ him. Some parents live with their kids for twenty years without being able to say that."

"Oh," Sara says, brightening slightly.

"You just have to keep on him," Catherine says. "Make sure he's toeing the line. Follow up with his teachers to see how his grades are. Talk to him about the kids at school – as much as he's willing to talk to you. If he knows you're going to keep an eye on what he's doing, he'll make sure he does what you ask."

"Why, though?"

Catherine smiles. "He'll want to please you."

Sara has a sudden vision of herself as a pre-teen and teenager. Catherine is right. All she wanted was to please the adults in her life – whether it was her parents, a foster parent or her teachers.

"Yeah," she says slowly. "You're right."

Their waitress returns with steaming plates. She puts Catherine's omelet and Sara's pancakes down in front of them.

"Is there anything else you ladies need right now?"

"Not me," Catherine says. "Sara?"

Sara shakes her head, staring at her pancakes with distaste. "Nope."

"Okay, then."

The waitress disappears, and Catherine looks at Sara.

"Are you okay?"

Sara pushes the plate away. "I can't eat this."

"You are the thinnest person I know," Catherine says. "You can afford to eat it."

"I don't mean that," Sara says. "I mean, just looking at them is making me sick."

Catherine frowns. "Are you coming down with something?"

"I hope not," Sara says. "I thought I was just tired from being up with Jake the past few days – I've been staying up until Grissom gets home so he's not alone in the house."

"Well, that's not much different than working a double."

Sara frowns. "You're right."

"Is this the first time you've felt sick today?"

"No, I was nauseous when Nick pulled out a bloody shirt from evidence. The smell …"

Catherine smiles sympathetically. "Yeah, some of those can be pretty bad."

Sara nods. "I hate to say this, but … do you think I'm just getting old? That I can't keep up anymore? God, Grissom will never let me hear the end of it … he was pulling double and triples when he was ten years older than I am now."

"Sara," Catherine says when she finally pauses for breath. "I don't think you're old."

"Well, that's a relief."

"But …" She smiles. "Do you think you could be pregnant?"

* * *

_December 2003_

Warrick traced a bloody shoe print he had found at the crime scene to Benny, another teenager who attended the same school as Ashley and Brian. While searching his house, Warrick discovered his party room – home to a CD collection, a new game system, smashed watermelon and a hammer.

After combing through the things Warrick brought back from Benny's house, he and Sara connected two more students to Brian's death – brothers Aaron and Jared. Aaron had a hammer. Jared, the younger brother, wore braces, which had trapped Brian's DNA when he had punched him in self-defense.

None of the boys would talk. Benny went so far as to tell Brass that jail sounded just fine to him. While Aaron and Jared did not go that far, it was obvious that they had entered into a very serious pact to protect one another.

Grissom called the team into the break room. He sat at the table with Sara, Warrick and Brass. Case notes and evidence littered the table, but none of it was helping them make sense of what had happened.

"Okay," Grissom said. "We need to go over this step by step."

"Suspects," Brass said. "Benny, Aaron, Jared and Gregory."

"Gregory?" Sara said. "I thought DNA excluded him."

"It only excluded him from being punched by Brian," Grissom said. "His hammer still has Brian's blood on it."

"And, in my book, that makes it a murder weapon," Brass said.

"If that's the case … We have a problem," Sara said. We have three hammers and four suspects."

"Well, the Gilbert brothers both seem ready to go down for it," Warrick said, referring to Aaron and Jared.

"And, Benny can't wait to go to jail," Brass said.

Sara shook her head slightly. "If they were defending Ashley against an attacker, why not say so?"

"They weren't," Grissom said. "The smashed watermelon suggests the whole thing was premeditated."

"Making the motive … robbery," Sara said.

"Well, Benny, Aaron and Jared each had about a hundred twenty-five dollars worth of cash and assorted prizes," Brass said.

"Three hundred seventy-five dollars," Grissom said, looking at his interview notes. "Brian's parents said that he was being paid five hundred dollars every two weeks, cash, under the table."

"It was pay day," Sara said. "So, who got the other hundred twenty-five dollars?"

"Well, Gregory Curtwell makes good money," Warrick said. "A hundred twenty-five bucks is a spit in the ocean for a construction worker. If he wasn't defending his sister, then he has no motive."

"Well, if he didn't do it, why did his hammer end up with Brian's blood on it?" Brass asked.

Sudden, horrifying realization came over Sara. _Ashley went on a shopping spree after Brian was killed … _

Grissom watched Sara tear through her case notes. _She's on to something … _He had to hide his smile. He loved to watch her work. He loved to watch her think.

"Clothing, eighty-five dollars; earrings, thirty dollars; coffee, four dollars." She closed the file and looked up, straight at Grissom. "Getting away with murder?"

"Priceless," he finished.

"She lied to me," Sara said. "She looked right in my face and lied to me."

"Hey, don't take it personally," Warrick said bracingly. "People lie to us all the time."

Sara shook her head, a disgusted look on her face. "Not about things like this."

"Well, let's make sure she's lying." Warrick flipped through his notes. "One of the items recovered from Benny's party room was a tube of lip gloss. Let's test it for DNA. See if it's Ashley's."

"Okay," Brass said. "Call me as soon as you get results, and I'll call her in."

"Jim," Sara said, "I want to interview her."

"You're sure?" Brass asked.

"Oh, yeah," Sara said. "I'm sure."

* * *

"Sara!"

Sara stopped to see Mandy running toward her. "What's up?"

"Have you interviewed Ashley Curtwell yet?"

"No, I was just about to go to PD."

"Here," Mandy shoved a file into Sara's hands. "That bloody twenty that you gave me … the bloody prints are Ashley's. I included Greg's report, too – the blood is Brian's."

Fresh anger shot through Sara. "Thanks, Mandy."

Mandy smiled. "That's why I'm here."

Armed with new evidence, Sara went to PD. Brass met her in the hallway.

"She's in there," he said, jerking his thumb toward the interrogation room behind him. "Do you want me to go with you?"

"No," Sara said. "I want to do this alone."

Brass nodded. "I'll be watching."

Sara nodded, and brushed past him, into the room. Ashley was sitting alone, still holding her innocent, traumatized expression.

"Hi, Ashley," Sara said as she sat down.

"Hi," Ashley replied in her little, scared voice.

"The hand that holds the wallet is the hand that rules the world, huh, Ashley?" Sara said. She pulled out the pictures of the money that Mandy had given her. "Your fingerprint in Brian's blood on Jared's money. This is what we call 'completing the triangle.'"

"Okay, so, he attacked me and I did see who defended me," Ashley said. "I didn't want to get my friends in trouble. And, the money was for, like, pain and suffering."

"You weren't attacked, Ashley, Brian was," Sara said. "We figured none of the boys wore Cotton Candy, so we had it tested." She put the bagged lip gloss on the table. "Turns out you were at Benny's house, too."

Ashley made one last attempt at sweetness, stating that her brother went away almost every weekend.

"You know, I am _done_ with the Ashley Pity Party," Sara said.

With those words, Ashley's entire attitude changed. She dropped her victim routine, and the entire story came tumbling out. She had been Brian's friend until he "went straight." Hurt that he no longer wanted to hang out with them, she and her friends devised a plan to get him into the house and to kill him, robbing him of his earnings.

"You're not a victim," Sara said, pain shooting through her as she thought of poor Susanna Kirkwood – of her haunted eyes as she sat in the back of Sara's SUV, begging for a ride to the hospital. "You were a lure."

Ashley held her eyes defiantly – almost proudly.

"Do you know how many people don't report a rape because they're afraid no one will believe them?" Sara asked. _Susanna didn't even tell me the truth – she made me think she was date-raped at a party … _

"Of course," Ashley said. "It's what I was counting on."

Disgust filled Sara. "I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure you're tried as an adult."

"Good luck," Ashley said. "I dress up real nice. Couple barrettes, little lace collar, two dead parents … I'll be the saddest little girl in the world."

Sara suddenly felt nauseous. She got up and walked out of the room without another word.

Brass met her in the hallway. "Well, if she's going for an insanity plea, she just got a good start on it. That girl has lost her mind."

"She also gave a lot away," Sara said. "We can hand that to the DA and watch her try to pull one over on the jury."

"Yeah," Brass agreed. "Hey, are you okay? You look a little shaky."

"I'll be fine," Sara said. "I'm going to get back to the lab. I want to tell Warrick and Grissom what happened in the interview."

Brass nodded. "Okay. I'll see you later."

* * *

Grissom and Warrick were waiting in Grissom's office when Sara arrived at the lab. She sat down next to Warrick.

"Ashley was a lure," she said. "She got Brian into the house by coming on to him. She and the boys put together the entire murder plan. She took Gregory's hammer because the brothers Gilbert only had one between the two of them." She shook her head. "She lied to me. She told me Brian tried to rape her." Tears pressed against the backs of her eyes. "She knew how many rapes go unreported because the victims fear no one will believe them. She knew it would make her seem all the more credible."

"Sara, you were just doing your job," Grissom said.

She shook her head again. "I was duped by a high schooler, Grissom. She's just some little kid, and she made me believe something that was completely made up!"

"And, as soon as you had evidence that didn't support it, you stopped believing her," Grissom said. "I'll say it again, Sara: You did your job. You did it very well."

Sara managed a small smile. "Thanks."

"Come on, girl," Warrick said, standing up. "Let's go get a drink. I think you need one."

"But, the reports –"

"I'll take care of it," Grissom said. "You guys go. Shift ended three hours ago, anyway."

Sara nodded and got up with Warrick. A drink with her friends was exactly what she needed.

Grissom watched her go with a sense of sorrow. He so wanted to be the one taking her out and cheering her up. He wanted to be in Warrick's place so badly …

_No. I don't want to be in Warrick's place. Warrick is just her friend. I want …_

He shook his head. He wouldn't let himself go down that road, even in his thoughts.

_We tried. It didn't work. Wanting it to work wasn't enough, and there is nothing you can do to change that._

* * *

_December 2015_

Sara emerges from Catherine's bathroom with a stunned look on her face.

"Well?" Catherine demands.

Sara stares at her in shock. "I'm pregnant."


	18. Surprises

A/N: Sorry about the massive delay! Between my friend's wedding and the beginning of the school year, things were a little hectic. I think we're back on schedule now!

We hope you enjoy this chapter! Thanks for reading and reviewing.

I don't own CSI. Some inspiration and dialogue are taken from episode 410, "Eleven Angry Jurors."

* * *

_December 2015_

"Hello?"

"Hi, Grissom. It's Nick."

"Hi, Nick," Grissom replies. "What can I do for you?"

"I … need your opinion on something here at the lab. Can you come in for a bit?"

Grissom glances at the clock. Sara is out for breakfast with Catherine; knowing their breakfasts, it will be past lunchtime before she's home. Both Anna and Jake are at school, and will be for hours. He doesn't teach or hold office hours on Wednesdays; he's free for the day.

"Sure," he agrees. "I'll be there in half an hour."

"Perfect."

* * *

_December 2003_

Grissom sat at his desk with a pensive look. His elbows were resting on the flat surface; his fingers were templed in front of his face. He was looking at the point where the fingertips of his left hand met those of his right without really seeing them at all.

He had received yet another email reminding him that he needed to submit his recommendation for the promotion to Lead CSI. The email also contained the helpful reminder that both Sara Sidle _and_ Nick Stokes had applied for the position; without his input, a decision could not be made.

The trouble, in Grissom's opinion, was that both Nick and Sara were excellent candidates for the promotion. Both were incredible CSIs. Both were exceptionally intelligent, with similar educational backgrounds. To be sure, Sara's Ivy League schooling was more impressive, but that was easily overlooked in cases such as these. Both had the potential to be good leaders, in very different ways. Both wanted to advance their careers.

The greatest difference was in his feelings toward them. Nick was a vital member of his team. He was an asset to the shift and to the lab. He was someone Grissom counted on, and someone he could trust with his life.

Sara was one of the few women he had met with whom he had considered _building_ a life.

Grissom shook his head slightly. He would never be able to make this decision.

"Hey."

He looked up to see Catherine standing in his office doorway. "Hi," he replied.

"Brass just called. A juror in a high-profile murder case died while sequestered. Potential juror-tampering. You want in?"

"Yeah," Grissom replied. "Get everyone else, too."

"Nick's maxed out on overtime," Catherine said. "Do you want him in the field?"

"No," Grissom said at once. "He can stay here. But, Sara and Warrick are coming with us."

"You've got it."

* * *

_December 2015_

Catherine smiles a tentative smile. "And, you're feeling …?"

"Stunned," is all Sara can say. She sits down on Catherine's bed.

"So, I take it this wasn't planned," Catherine says, sitting down next to her.

"No," Sara says with a shaky laugh. "Not at all."

Catherine waits.

"I'm too old to have a baby," Sara says.

Catherine smiles. "I'd say the test disagrees."

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah," Catherine says quietly. "And, I know that you had Anna right away because you didn't want to wait until it was too late." She smiles. "Maybe this is a wonderful reminder that you don't always need to rush into things."

"I'm not sure that Grissom and I have ever _rushed_ into anything," Sara says with a wry smile. "Having Anna was one of the few times we both simultaneously felt pressure for something relationship-related." She exhales. "I don't know how to tell him. I don't know what he's going to say. What he's going to think."

"I think … you need to know what _you_ think first."

Sara nods, subconsciously dropping her hand to cover her abdomen. "I think …" She smiles a small smile. "I love being Anna's mommy. I know I'll love being this baby's mommy, too."

Catherine grabs her free hand. "You're an incredible mother, Sara, and Grissom is an incredible father. This baby is lucky to have the two of you for parents."

"Grissom …" Sara's smile widens. "I need to get home to tell him."

"But … two seconds ago you said …"

"I know," Sara says, now grinning. "And, I still don't know how I'm going to tell him. I have no idea how he'll react. But … the sooner the better, right?"

Catherine squeezes her hand. "Right."

"Wish me luck."

Catherine smiles. "You won't need it."

* * *

_December 2003_

The autopsy revealed that the juror – the lone holdout on what the others considered to be an obvious guilty verdict – had died of an allergic reaction. Another juror spoke of the victim's reaction to having peanut shells in his vicinity; Sara and Warrick were going through the trash and food in the room, searching for peanuts that may have found their way into the victim.

Grissom walked past the layout room, where Sara was shifting through a container of chili. He paused to watch as she chatted with Warrick as she worked.

_She could do it_, he mused. _She'd make an excellent leader. And, I know the others respect her; they'd be willing to do as she asked. _

"We need to talk."

Once again, it was Catherine's voice that broke into Grissom's thoughts. She grabbed his arm and led him to his office.

"What's going on?" he asked as she shut the door behind them. "You're being awful secretive, even for you."

"Nick's not working this case with us."

"I've noticed," Grissom said. "But, he's doing something with Vartann, right?" He shrugged slightly. "There are plenty of cases to be solved, Cath. I don't expect my entire team to work the same case all the time."

"Do you know what case he's working with Vartann?"

"No." Grissom smiled slightly. "And, don't be upset with me for that. It's not that I'm not supervising him, it's that I trust him enough to handle a case on his own. I'll check in with him when I have a chance."

"Grissom, he's investigating Rita Westonson's disappearance."

"Rita Westonson …" Grissom frowned. "Nick and I worked that case …"

"Four years ago," Catherine supplied. "Her sister now suddenly claims she was murdered; Vartann asked Nick to reopen it."

"Well, if new evidence has come to light, it has to be reopened."

Catherine frowned. "You don't want to jump in with him?"

"Nick's a big boy, Catherine. He can handle it on his own."

She gave him a look of disbelief. "But …"

Grissom shook his head. "I trust him. Besides, right now, I'm needed where I am."

"Okay," Catherine said slowly. "But, if you change your mind, Sara, Warrick and I can handle this one."

Grissom shook his head again. "Nick will be fine."

* * *

_December 2015_

The house is empty when Sara arrives home. She frowns slightly; although she had not expected to see the children, Grissom is generally home on Wednesdays. After walking through the entire house and finding no one but the dog ready to greet her, she sends him a text.

_Where are you?_

She only waits a moment before she receives a reply.

_At the lab with Nick. Will be home before the kids. _

Sara sighs. "So much for sharing my news right away." She looks down at Hank, who has settled at her feet. "I doubt you'd care. Well … not at this point." She leans down to pet him with a smile. "As I recall, you're not much of fan of babies. Sorry, buddy. I guess we weren't thinking about you." She straightens up again, her cheeks turning a faint pink. "We weren't thinking at all."

* * *

_December 2003_

"Want to come for a drive?"

Sara looked up from her report to see Grissom in the layout room doorway. "A drive to … where?"

"The courthouse."

"Again?" she nearly groaned. "Warrick and I spent forever on that trash! I can't believe it didn't give us anything useful."

"It did," Grissom replied. "It told us that the vic's reaction to the peanut butter that had been slipped into his chili didn't kill him."

"Well," Sara said as she hopped off her stool and joined him in the hallway, "I'm assuming that you've got something new that we need to find this time."

"Doc Robbins just told me that the vic was stung by a bee."

"A bee sting?" Sara repeated in shock. "That's what did him in?"

"Likely," Grissom replied. "Greg's testing our theory as we speak." He smiled and winked at her. "So, assuming we're right, and it was the bee that killed him … let's go see if we can find the culprit."

Sara smiled at his jovial attitude. "Indeed."

* * *

"Back again, huh?" the security guard greeted Grissom and Sara as they ducked under the crime scene tape.

"Yeah, we can't get enough of this place," Sara replied.

Grissom smiled. "We'll be in the jury room for a little while."

"Enjoy," he replied. "Holler if you need anything."

"Will do," Sara replied.

They walked into the room; Grissom immediately clicked on his flashlight. Sara put her kit down and turned on her own flashlight. They both dropped to their knees and began crawling across the floor, searching for the dead bee.

"If we can find the bee, that proves that his reaction to the sting caused his collapse," Grissom said.

Sara nodded. "Greg ran the assay test for bee venom on Chris Gibbons. IG levels were spiked."

"Was Gibbons even aware that he had a bee allergy?" Grissom mused.

"Brass finally tracked down his allergist," Sara said. She glanced over at Grissom. "Gibbons was allergic to a lot of things."

Grissom nodded. He had had a feeling that might be the case.

Sara came to the end of the table, and rounded the corner. As she moved, she illuminated an arc around her, capturing the table's legs with her flashlight. Her eyes lit up as her beam landed on the tiny bee's body, lodged in the foot of the table.

"The killer, I presume," she said.

Grissom's attention was captured; he made his way to her as she picked up the bee with a pair of tweezers.

"Or what's left of him," Grissom said, studying the bee Sara was holding up.

"He had an immediate reaction to a bee sting," Sara said.

"Lost consciousness, fell forward, and hit his head on the table," Grissom added.

"You know," Sara began slowly, "how Jervis was complaining it was too hot … he said he opened a window."

"Well, that explains it," Grissom said, glancing at Sara. "It was an outside job."

Sara smiled. "Punny, Griss. Very punny."

He smiled back, feeling a brief sense of elation at being the one to make her smile. It had been a long time since he had done that. He cleared his throat before he could say something he would regret later.

"Well, we've found our evidence. Back to the lab?"

Sara nodded slowly, suddenly wishing she hadn't found the bee so quickly. She would have liked to have spent more time alone with Grissom. "Back to the lab."

* * *

_December 2015_

"Hi, Grissom. Thanks for coming in to meet with me."

"No problem, Nick," Grissom replies. "How can I help?"

As Grissom sits down across from him at his desk, Nick cannot help but see the irony of the situation. For years, he came to this same office to ask Grissom for advice, sitting across this same desk from this same man. Now, although there are no longer cases full of mounted insects on the walls, and he and his mentor have reversed their positions across the desk from one another, Nick finds himself in the same role. He needs advice, and Grissom is willing and able to dispense it.

"I'm … in an awkward position," Nick says.

"Okay," Grissom replies, prompting further explanation.

"I've been asked to promote a member of my team," Nick says. "I have two excellent candidate s for the position. Both are equally qualified. Both show leadership potential. Both want to advance in the department." He gives Grissom a tortured look. "How can I decide?"

"There's no magic formula, Nick," Grissom says slowly. "You have to consider –"

"Please don't do that," Nick interrupts. "Please don't tell me to consider their strengths and weaknesses, and what's best for the lab. I've heard all that before. I want to know what _you_ would do in my position."

Grissom smiles slightly. "Nick, I was in your position. Remember when you and Sara both applied for that Lead CSI position?"

Nick smiles. "The one that was cut before I could even accept it?"

"Yes, that one. You both were – are – exceptional CSIs. You both are excellent leaders. And, you both wanted to advance. Believe me, it was not an easy decision."

"I still can't believe you chose me," Nick says. "I had heard …"

"What?"

"Lab gossip," he says dismissively. "Everyone kept telling me that you had picked Sara. And, knowing how Sara was, it made sense."

"What does that mean?"

"Oh, you know Sara. Back then, she would have given anything to run the lab."

"I suppose …" Grissom sighs. "You both wanted it, though. You wouldn't have applied for it if you didn't want it."

"That's true. So, how did you decide on me instead of her?"

Grissom smiles. "Rita Westonson …"

* * *

_December 2003_

"Hey, Griss. I wanted to talk to you about the Rita Westonson case."

"Okay," Grissom replied, already moving around his office to a filing cabinet. "How did it all turn out? Was she actually murdered, like her sister suddenly remembered?"

"Yes and no," Nick said with a slight smile.

Grissom looked up at him. "Go on."

"She was murdered – but, not like Faye described. Faye said that Aaron killed Rita and made her help dispose of the body. As it turns out, Faye killed Rita to be with Aaron. Then, a couple of weeks ago, hears he's getting engaged to her younger sister, Terry. Faye couldn't handle it, man. She just freaked. So, she tried to pin Rita's murder on Aaron."

"Four years ago, when I decided to close the case, did you agree with my decision?" Grissom selected the file he needed and went back to his desk.

"You were following protocol," Nick replied.

_That's a "no" hidden in a "yes." _"And, now?"

"Now I'd fight you on it, yeah," Nick said with conviction.

"Why?" Grissom asked.

"Rita Westonson was a dependable, predictable girl. We never answered the question why she just woke up one morning and walked away from the rest of her life."

"It happens," Grissom said. "And, that's what the evidence was telling us."

"Well, that's what the physical evidence was telling us. We should have dug deeper. You can't just ignore the human element, Grissom."

"I agree, Nick. But, when you start to have feelings for the people involved, you risk your objectivity."

"So, what? You know, I'm always getting criticized for empathizing with the victims and their families, but that's who I am. That's how I do my job."

Grissom turned to face Nick.

"And, as far as the promotion goes, it's all good, man. I can live without it. I'm not you."

Grissom held his eyes for a moment as though sizing him up. "Good," he said at last. "We certainly don't need another me around here."

Nick stared at him for a moment, feeling the bitterness of the lost promotion. Then, taking Grissom's words for dismissal, turned and walked out of the office.

Grissom watched him go with a smile. He sat down at his desk, and began typing his email to the lab's assistant director. He finally knew who to promote.

* * *

_December 2015_

"That's it? Because I fought you? Because I proved you wrong?"

"Yes," Grissom says. "You took a risk. That showed leadership potential."

"Hm."

"And, Nick, because you told me you didn't care about the promotion. You said you could live without it. And, _that_, Nick, is what makes a good leader – at least in our business. If you want it too much, you become like Ecklie, caught up in the administration and the politics, ignoring the science and the victims. But, if you aren't in it for the position … that's when you're doing it for the right reasons. That's when you're going to do a good job." He smiles. "Like you are now."

"It about killed Sara to lose that promotion."

"I know. I knew it would when I sent that email. But, sometimes, Ecklie's right. Sometimes, you have to do what's best for the lab, not what's best for the individuals in the lab."

Nick nods. "Thanks, Griss. I think I know what I need to do."

Grissom smiles. "Good. If you need to talk … call me."

"I will."

* * *

When Grissom walks into his house, he sees Sara sitting at the kitchen table, drinking a glass of milk. He smiles and walks up behind her, leaning down to hug her and kiss her cheek.

"Hi," he says. "I didn't expect to see you home so soon. I figured you'd be chatting with Catherine for hours."

She grins. "Well, I wanted to chat with you, too. Will you sit with me for a minute?"

"Of course." Grissom sits down across from her, and is a bit surprised when she leans across to grab his hands.

"I … have some news."

"Okay," Grissom says slowly. "Let's hear it."

Sara smiles widely. "We're going to have a baby. I'm pregnant."

Grissom's mouth drops open. "What?"

Sara giggles at his expression. "I know, right? It's unbelievable. It's shocking. It's not something we planned. But, Gil, the more I think about it … It's incredibly, perfectly _right_."

"A baby … another baby …" He shakes his head slightly. "When did you find out?"

"Just this morning. After I turned down pancakes, Catherine suggested I take a test."

"A baby," Grissom says again, this time his tone full of wonder. He raises Sara hands to his lips and kisses them. "We have to tell the kids. Anna's going to be so excited."

"Yeah," Sara agrees, "she will be."

Grissom looks at the clock. "We've still got plenty of time before we have to pick them up. What do you say to a little … celebration?"

Sara's eyes darken and her smile morphs from excited to seductive. "Yes," she purrs.

Grissom pulls her to her feet and leads her to their bedroom.

* * *

"What homework do you have tonight?" Anna asks as she and Jake enter the house.

"Math, English and biology," he replies.

Anna makes a face. "I have reading and math."

"You're both going to have to wait a minute before you start your homework," Grissom says. "Come into the living room with me and Mom. We want to talk to you."

Anna and Jake exchange a confused glance, but follow Grissom into the living room, where Sara is already sitting on the couch. She is smiling, which is enough to convince Anna and Jake that they aren't in trouble. They both relax.

"Mom and I got some news today," Grissom says, sitting down next to her and taking her hand. He nods to her.

Sara looks at the children with a bright smile and twinkling eyes. "You're going to have a new brother or sister," she announces. "We're having a baby."

Anna shrieks. "Do you mean it? Really? I'm going to have a baby sister?"

"Or brother," Grissom says.

"A little sister, a little sister!" she exclaims, dancing around the room. "I can't wait! She'll play with my dolls and my kitchen and –"

"She'll be too little for that for awhile," Sara interjects with a laugh.

"Can we go see her room right now? Daddy, how will we paint it?"

Laughing, Grissom gets up and lets Anna take his hand and drag him to the guest room for a closer inspection. Left alone with him, Sara turns to Jake.

"Well, I guess I'll go pack my stuff …" he says, trailing off into silence.

Sara looks at him in confusion. "Why? I know your room is bigger than the spare room, but the baby won't even be able to walk for quite some time. You stay where you are. You're older; you deserve more space."

Jake stares at her in shock. "But … I thought …"

"You thought what?"

He draws a deep breath. "With the new baby, you'll have two kids of your own. You won't need me hanging around."

Sara shakes her head, smiling at him. "No, Jake. With the new baby, I'll have _three_ kids."

Jake stares at her for a long moment, blinking rapidly. "I've got to go finish my homework," he mumbles.

He all but runs out of the room before she can see his tears.


	19. Momentum

A/N: We hope you enjoy this one! Merry Christmas in October!

Thanks for reading and reviewing!

I don't own CSI, iTunes or iPod. I do own an iPod and hundreds of iTunes, but, sadly, not Apple.

* * *

_December 2003_

Sara stood in the staff room, staring at the schedule. She had looked at it at least five times a day for the past week. Her first glance at it had been to determine her own shifts. Her second had been to determine with whom she would be working during those shifts.

That was the point when she became obsessed with studying it.

She was working on Christmas Eve. This was not unusual; she always volunteered to work that shift, knowing that Catherine would want to spend it with Lindsey and that Nick would take the entire week off to go home to Texas to visit his family for the holidays. Sara's voluntary request to work was more a formality than anything; she and Grissom both knew that he needed her to work and would schedule her regardless, but the gesture on her part was kind.

She was scheduled to spend her Christmas Eve with Grissom, Warrick and a CSI borrowed from day shift.

Again, working with Grissom and Warrick on Christmas Eve was rather normal. None of them had children or spent the holiday out of town; it had become something of a tradition to begin their shift with nonalcoholic eggnog. Although Sara despised eggnog, she always drank it with them in the spirit of camaraderie.

But, this year …

Things had been so odd between her and Grissom. They had gone from friends to something more to a former couple to … Sara wasn't really sure _what_ they were to one another at this point. She did know that they were working their way back to the friendship they had shared. She also knew that, if given the chance, she would be more than willing to become romantically involved with him again. Although it had not worked out the first time they tried, she knew that they could make it work if given another chance. And, his current attitude toward her was so much friendlier, so much more what it had been in years past … It made her think that it could provide a solid foundation for the _something more_ that she craved.

And, maybe, Christmas was the time to let that _something_ begin to build. Maybe …

She looked at their names and scheduled hours yet again. The familiar nervousness shot through her, but a new hopefulness accompanied it.

Maybe Christmas would indeed be the perfect season for a miracle.

* * *

_December 2015_

"Hi."

Jake looks up as Molly approaches his desk. He glances at the clock; there are still two minutes before the bell will ring and their history class will begin. He sighs, knowing there is no way to avoid being social.

"Hi," he says.

She smiles. "How have you been?"

"What, you mean since you stopped talking to me?" The words are ruder than he had intended, but he can't stop them.

"It's almost Christmas, Jake," she says quietly. "I just thought …"

He sighs and runs his hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to be like that."

She nods. "Are you going to the Snow Ball on Friday?"

"No."

"Why not? It'll be fun. It always is."

"I don't have a date," he replies.

Molly shrugs. "You don't need one. Not everyone takes a date to the Snow Ball. It's not like it's the prom."

"Who are you going with?"

She bites her lip. "No one."

Jake's eyebrows shoot up. Molly is a pretty girl, and he's heard the other boys talking about her. He's sure she was asked to the dance by several of his classmates. "No one?" he repeats incredulously.

"Well, just a couple of the girls," she elaborates. "We're going together."

"Oh."

She bites her lip again. "I'd really like it if you'd go," she says quietly, her cheeks turning a lovely shade of pink.

The bell rings and she scurries back to her seat before Mr. Anderson has time to mark her late.

* * *

"Guess what?" Anna exclaims as Jake enters the kitchen for dinner.

"What?" he asks.

She grins. "Guess."

He sighs. "You finished your homework before me … again."

"Nope."

He raises his eyebrows. "You didn't finish it yet?"

"Yes, but that's not what you were supposed to guess."

"Oh. Um … you added more things to your letter to Santa?"

"No."

"Um … your dad let you make dessert tonight?"

"No! That's three guesses!"

"Will you tell me now?"

"Mommy and Daddy are going out on Friday, so Uncle Nick is coming to stay with us!"

"Oh," Jake says.

"You aren't very excited."

"He doesn't know Uncle Nick like you do, sweetie," Sara says. "I'm sure he'll be excited once he gets to know him."

"Okay," Anna agrees, sitting down at the table.

"Is that okay?" Sara asks Jake as they, too, sit down. "You don't mind staying with Nick and Anna, do you?"

"Not … really."

Sara frowns slightly. "What's the problem?"

If Jake has learned one thing during his time with them, it is not to ignore or attempt to deflect a direct question from Sara. Grissom has been away from law enforcement and with students long enough that he can be put off without incredible difficulty, but Sara will not accept anything but bitter, painful, honest answers to her queries.

"There's this … dance," Jake admits. "At school. I wasn't going to go, but now that it's almost here, I …"

"Want to go," Sara finishes for him. She looks at Grissom.

"What time does it start?" he asks

"Seven."

Grissom nods. "We can take you to the dance if you want to get there right around seven, and then Nick can pick you up later."

"You're sure?" Jake says. "I don't have to go if it's a problem."

"It's not a problem," Grissom says.

Sara can barely hide her smile. "Not at all."

* * *

_December 2003_

Sara entered the lab on Christmas Eve feeling more nervous than she had when she went to work the day after she and Grissom had ended their relationship, and she wanted to shake herself for it.

_You're being silly. It's just work. Like it's always been. _

She sighed and trudged on to the locker room. It wasn't just work. She had far bigger plans for this night. She could only hope that Grissom would go along with her

"Hey, girl!" Warrick said, pausing as he passed the locker room with a stack of plastic cups in his hand. "Merry Christmas Eve! Eggnog in the break room in five!"

"I'll be there!" Sara called, glad he was gone before he could see her grimace.

Once again, she would choke down the eggnog … for her friends.

* * *

_December 2015_

"Okay, we need to strategize," Grissom says.

Sara giggles. "It's just the mall, Griss."

"Yes, but we only have three hours from when we'll get there until they close," Grissom reminds her. "We want to plan for maximum purchasing."

"You do realize that we still have time before Christmas, right? We can plan a second shopping trip later in the week. I'm sure Nick will stay with the kids again – or Greg or even Lindsey will help out."

Grissom's expression is pained. "I'd rather get this done in one shot."

Sara laughs. "Okay. What are you thinking we should get for Anna?"

A knock on Grissom's office door ends their conversation.

"Come in," he calls.

Jake slowly opens the door and comes into the room. He is wearing khaki pants and a light green dress shirt; his tie is hanging around his neck.

"Hi," he says awkward. "Um … I was wondering if maybe …" He holds up the ends of his tie.

"A newcomer to ties?" Grissom asks. "Come with me. I'll show you how it's done."

Looking relieved, Jake follows Grissom to the master bedroom. Sara watches them go with a smile, thinking that Jake is finally learning to trust them.

Grissom takes Jake to the bedroom and disappears into the closet. He returns a moment later holding a tie.

"Come here, in front of the mirror."

Jake obeys and watches as Grissom puts his tie around his own neck.

"Just watch me the first time, then we'll do yours."

Jake nods silently. He watches carefully as Grissom ties his own tie, providing constant narration of his process.

"Make sense?" he asks when he's through.

Jake nods.

"Okay. Give it a try."

Jake attempts to tie his own tie, but fails miserably. "Oh, man. I'm sorry."

"Hey, don't apologize," Grissom says. "If you already knew how to do it, you wouldn't be here with me right now. Let's do it together."

Four attempts later, Jake's tie looks perfect. He gives Grissom a smile.

"Thanks for helping me," he says. "I guess most guys learn how to do that when they're little …"

"Not really," Grissom replies. "I think I was about your age when I learned."

"Did your dad teach you?"

"No," Grissom says. He pauses, considering his options. "My uncle Herb did," he says at last. "My father died when I was little."

"Oh," Jake says, his eyes rounding in surprise. "I'm sorry."

Grissom shrugs slightly. "It was a long time ago."

Jake nods.

"You're braver than I was at your age," Grissom comments.

"What do you mean?"

He smiles slightly. "Even after Uncle Herb taught me to tie a tie … I didn't go to any dances."

Jake flushes a bright shade of red. "Well … it's just …"

Grissom smiles. "A girl?"

"She said she really wanted me to go."

Grissom's smile widens. "Ask her to dance."

Jake looks horrified. "I don't know how to dance!"

"Ask her," Grissom says, still grinning. "I really don't think she'll care if you can dance well or not."

* * *

Jake sits silently in the backseat as Grissom drives them to the MGM Grand, where the dance is being held. Sara glances back at him, knowing that nerves are keeping him from speaking.

"Don't go up to a hotel room," she says, only half-joking. "Just stay in the ballroom where they're having the dance."

Jake nods.

Grissom drives up to the hotel, stopping and waving off the valet. He puts the care in park and turns to look at Jake.

"Remember what I said, okay?" he asks.

Jake blushes and nods.

Grissom winks at him and grins.

"Have fun," Sara says. "Nick will be here to pick you up at ten. Call him if you want to leave sooner."

"Okay. See you."

Jake climbs out of the car, and Sara turns to Grissom.

"What did you say to him that he has to remember?"

Grissom smiles. "He's only going to this dance because a young lady told him she wanted him to be here. I told him to ask her to dance."

Sara laughs. "Some advice, coming from you! It took you long enough to ask _me_ to dance."

"But, I've learned from my mistakes, dear."

Sara smiles and leans over to kiss his cheek. "That you have."

Grissom turns to kiss her lips. "Come on, love. Let's go Christmas shopping."

* * *

The room is practically shaking with music when Jake enters. Teenagers are milling around; most of them are chatting, but a few have stepped onto the dance floor. After searching the crowd for a few minutes, he notices Molly. She is with several girls, including Shannon. A wave of dislike washes over Jake. He cannot forget the way she turned Molly against him when he first started attending their school.

Molly looks around and notices him. They make eye contact, and a beaming smile lights her face. She waves; Jake returns the gesture, trying to smile back. Molly pulls away from her friends to join him.

"Hi! I can't believe you're here! I didn't really think you'd come!"

Jake smiles slightly. "I guess I'm full of surprises."

"I guess you are," she replies. "What do you think of the dance? Have you ever been to one like this before?"

"No, I haven't," he admits. "My old school didn't let anyone who wasn't in high school go."

"Didn't you have middle school dances?"

Jake shakes his head.

"Oh, wow," Molly says. "We had tons of dances in middle school. Like one a week."

"I guess you were lucky," Jake says, not because he believes it, but because he can tell she does.

"Yeah," she agrees. The song changes and her face lights up. "I love this song! Do you want to dance with me?"

He doesn't, not at all, but Grissom's words come back to him. "Okay," he agrees.

Molly can see the reluctance in his eyes and giggles. "I'll show you want to do," she promises.

"Okay," he says again.

The song is fast; Molly guides Jake to put his hands on her hips and gyrate to the music with her. He is surprised how easily he can find the rhythm of the music, and even more surprised by how easily he can follow Molly. Her hands are linked behind his head; she slowly pulls them closer and closer together. Before the song is over, they are close enough for him to smell her shampoo. Jake can feel his breath becoming shallow.

"See?" her voice is in his ear. "It's easy, right?"

"Right," he agrees.

"Do you like this song?"

"I do," he says, even though he's sure he's never heard it before. "It's great."

Molly giggles. "I knew you'd like it, too."

The song ends, and Jake takes his hands from her hips. Molly looks at him in surprise.

"Where are you going?"

"I thought – you said you liked that song – I just –"

"I like to _dance_," she corrects him. "Will you stay and dance with me some more?"

Jake clears his throat. "Won't your friends mind?"

Molly follows his gaze to her friends, who are glaring at them. "They'll get over it."

"I don't want to cause problems between you and them …"

"Don't worry about it. Just … dance with me some more."

Jake nods and falls back into the rhythm of the music with her.

* * *

"Okay," Sara says. "So, a dollhouse for Anna, a fancy phone for Jake, and a new Wii for them to share, along with an assortment of games and clothes. Good enough?"

"We were good three stores ago," Grissom replies. "I _know_ I didn't get this many Christmas presents when I was little."

"Yes, dear, but times have changed."

Grissom laughs. "And, you like to spoil them." His eyes begin to shine. "And, next year, we'll have _another_ little one to spoil."

"Yes," Sara says, her own eyes shining. "What do you want? A boy or a girl?"

"A girl," Grissom says promptly.

"Really? I thought you'd want a boy this time."

He shrugs. "We have a boy and a girl already. Anna wants a sister, so … why not?"

Sara leans up to kiss his cheek. "I love you."

"I love you, too – _both_ of you."

* * *

The next song is a slow song, which sends Jake into a moment of panic. Molly smiles as she moves closer to him.

"I love this song," she says.

"You love _every_ song," Jake replies.

Molly grins. "Yeah, I do. My parents always yell about how much money I spend on iTunes, but … music is my thing, you know?"

"Yeah," Jake says quietly, thinking of the number of times he had blasted his iPod just so he could hear something other than his parents' fights. "Yeah, I totally get that."

"Molly! What are you doing?"

Molly looks away from Jake to see the towering, very attractive sophomore standing behind him. "Evan! Hi!"

He looks at Jake for a moment, then back at Molly. "I thought your parents wouldn't let you come to the dance with a boy."

She pulls her hands away from Jake's shoulders; he releases her.

"They won't," she says. "I didn't come with Jake. We're just dancing."

"Huh." Evan looks at Jake again. "Mind if I cut in?"

"Be my guest," Jake mutters.

He walks away from Molly and Evan and takes a seat at the most shadowy, hidden table he can find.

Of course Molly would rather dance with Evan. He's just like her. One of them.

And, Jake … is not.

* * *

When Grissom and Sara arrive back at home, Nick is alone in the living room.

"Where are all the bags?" he asks. "I thought you two were out shopping."

"In the car," Sara says. "We thought the kids might be up with you, celebrating their first night of holiday break."

"Nah," Nick replies. "Anna fell asleep in the car on the way back from picking Jake up, and he just went straight upstairs when we got home. I assume he's in bed."

"Did he have fun at the dance?"

"He wasn't talking to me," Nick replies. "You'll have to ask him yourself. Or … maybe you should wait for him to tell you."

Sara nods. "That's probably the wisest idea."

* * *

Christmas morning arrives, and Grissom and Sara are still in the dark about the dance. Jake has not mentioned it, and, taking Nick's advice, they have not asked him.

Anna awakes them all earlier than they would like, squealing about the presents under the tree. Sara buries her head in her pillow.

"Can't you tell her that Mommy is tired?" she asks.

Grissom laughs. "Merry Christmas, love."

"Merry Christmas," she replies.

Grissom touches her still-flat abdomen. "Merry Christmas, baby."

Sara giggles. "She says merry Christmas to you, too."

"Come on. Let's go see if Anna has waited this year."

They pull themselves out of bed and wrap up in robes before descending the stairs. Anna, as they expected, is dancing around the tree. Hank bounds around with her, barking at random intervals.

Jake, who came downstairs as soon as Anna ran down, is standing rooted in place, staring at the glittering tree. Anna has already turned on the lights, adding to the spectacle of it all.

"Merry Christmas," Sara says as she and Grissom stop next to Jake.

He turns to look at her with wide eyes. "I – I've never …"

"Yeah," Sara says quietly. "I know."

To her great surprise, he throws his arms around her in a tight hug. "Thank you," he whispers. "Thank you for giving me Christmas."

Sara hugs him back, feeling tears dangerously close to the surface. "Thank you for sharing it with us."

"Jake, come on!" Anna exclaims. "We've got to open presents!"

Jake pulls away from Sara, and she nods. He joins Anna on the floor, and they begin picking up gifts and reading the name tags on them, giving Grissom and Sara theirs and tearing into their own.

Sitting there, around their Christmas tree, watching Anna and Jake open their gifts, Sara feels a warm sense of contentment wrap around her. Grissom sits down beside her on the sofa; his arm snakes around her waist.

"Happy?" he whispers, kissing her cheek.

She nods, not trusting her voice to speak. She can't remember the last time she was so happy on Christmas.

* * *

_December 2003_

Even though their Christmas Eve had included a double homicide, Grissom insisted that they leave promptly at the end of their shift. It was Christmas, he said, not a time to pull a double. The work would be there for them upon their return.

Warrick took his words to heart and, kissing Sara's cheek, was off like a shot. Sara lingered at her locker a bit longer, trying to work up the courage to do what she had promised herself she would. Finally, she managed to talk herself into what felt like an impossible task. She left the locker room and went to Grissom's office.

As she had expected, he was seated at his desk, going over some paperwork. She leaned against the doorframe and watched him for a long moment.

"Hi," she finally said.

He glanced up at her. "Hi. Why are you still here?"

"Why are you?" she countered.

"Just finishing up a few things," he said. He smiled at her and returned to his work.

"Want to grab some breakfast?" Sara asked.

Grissom looked up from his paperwork. "Where are you and Warrick going?"

"We – no, Griss, Warrick already went home."

He frowned slightly and took off his glasses so he could see her more clearly. "So … it would just be you and me."

Sara nodded, unable to force any words past the mounting dread in her throat.

"Sara …"

"It's just breakfast, Griss," she managed.

He shook his head slowly. "No. With us, it's not just breakfast. We both know that."

"So, you're turning me down?"

He nodded slowly. "I guess I am."

She could feel pressure against the backs of her eyes, and exhaled slowly, trying to maintain control.

"Sara," he began, but she held up her hand to stop him.

"No, it's fine. Great. Fantastic." She could maintain her control, but she could not keep the sarcasm out of her voice. "Merry Christmas, Grissom."

She turned and nearly ran away from his office, leaving Grissom sitting at his desk in stunned silence.

She couldn't remember the last time she had been so miserable on Christmas.


	20. Shaken

A/N: We so hope you like this one! Thanks for reading and reviewing!

I don't own CSI. Some inspiration and dialogue are taken from episode 412, "Butterflied."

* * *

_January 2004_

"We need to talk."

Grissom looked up from his paperwork to see Catherine walking into his office with a look on her face that told him this conversation would not be pretty. He took off his glasses and set them on top of the file in front of him.

"Catherine. How nice to see you."

"Cut the crap." She closed his door and sat down across from him. "What did you do to Sara?"

"Sara?"

"I haven't seen you two avoid each other like this in years! I want to know what you did, and what you're going to do to fix it." She narrowed her eyes. "I will not have her leaving this lab, Gil. She's an excellent CSI, and a vital part of this team. We need her here, and you know that as well as I do."

Grissom sighed and ran his hands over his face. It was true that he had been avoiding Sara since Christmas, assigning them different cases and generally staying out of her way. He had been so busy avoiding her that he hadn't realized that _she_ was going out of her way to avoid _him_.

"So, you _did_ do something," Catherine said, watching the emotions play across his face with her sharp eyes.

"Not exactly …" He paused, searching for words. "You know how Sara can get … her emotions run so close to the surface …"

"The last time you told me that the problem was _Sara getting emotional_, she threatened to quit," Catherine said bluntly.

"She won't quit."

"Are you sure about that?"

_No. _"Yes."

Catherine settled back in her chair. "So, what happened?"

The ringing of the phone on Grissom's desk saved him from answering her question. He picked it up with a look of relief. Catherine rolled her eyes.

"Grissom."

"Hi, Grissom, it's Brass."

"Hello," Grissom replied.

"I've got a homicide for you," he said. "I've got to tell you, it looks complex. Bring some back up."

"I'll be there," Grissom said. He put down the phone and looked at Catherine. "Who's free right now for a homicide?"

Catherine looked more than a little annoyed by the interruption. "Me, Warrick and Sara, as far as I know."

"Good. Then, you, Warrick and Sara are coming along."

Catherine raised an eyebrow. "Sara, too?"

Grissom sighed, realizing she did not consider their conversation to be _over_. "Yes. Sara, too."

"I'll let them know."

* * *

_January 2016_

Sara walks into Grissom's home office, where he is working diligently on an article he has been putting off for months. She smiles and walks up behind him, putting her arms around his shoulders. He smiles and leans back into her embrace.

"Hi," he says quietly.

"Bye," she replies.

His eyes shoot to the clock. "It's time for you to leave already?"

"Mm-hm." She kisses his cheek. "I'll see you in the morning – and, you had better not be in the same spot, wearing the same clothes."

He chuckles. "Of course not. I have to take the kids to school before you get home."

Sara rolls her eyes and straightens up. He turns to face her.

"Have you told anyone on the team about the baby?"

She shakes her head. "We still have a month before we're out of the first trimester."

He nods, but looks concerned. "I'd rather they know. They'd take it easier on you."

"Gil, I'm pregnant, not an invalid."

"I know. I just …"

"Worry," she supplies.

He smiles. "Yes."

Sara opens her mouth to reply, but is stopped by a cramp across her abdomen. An odd look crosses her face.

"What?" Grissom asks.

She shakes her head. "Nothing. Just a little cramping. Baby must be on the move."

"I don't think she's big enough for that yet."

"Well, on the expansion, then. Remember how I was with Anna?"

Grissom smiles. "Yes. If you say you're fine, I'll believe you."

"Thank goodness. I'm not in the mood for all the hovering again." She looks at her watch. "I really need to get going."

"Okay. Be careful."

"I will." She leans down to kiss him. "I love you."

"Love you, too."

* * *

_January 2004_

"What's going on with you and Grissom?"

Sara turned to stare at Catherine in shock. "_What_?"

"You've been avoiding each other," she said, never taking her eyes off the road. "Did he do something to you?"

_Yes. Our relationship is so screwed up that he won't even go out for _breakfast_ with me anymore_. "No. We're fine."

This time, Catherine chanced glancing away from the road to look at Sara. "No, you're not. You guys have been getting along great, and then, all of a sudden, nothing."

Sara sighed. "I appreciate your concern, but, Cat, I really don't want to get into it."

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure."

"You're not going to quit on us, are you?"

"No."

She said it with such conviction that Catherine was convinced. She let the subject drop, for which Sara was grateful.

_I won't let him drive me out this time_. _This is my home now. I won't leave because he's acting like a total ass. _

_

* * *

_

Grissom and Warrick were waiting for them at the crime scene when they arrived. The victim was a young woman who had been killed, according to Brass, in her bathroom.

"I'm going to do a walk-through," Grissom said in greeting as Sara and Catherine joined him and

Warrick outside the house. "I'll be right back."

He disappeared into the house. Catherine looked at Warrick.

"How long have you guys been here?"

"About five minutes."

She nodded. "Okay. As long as he didn't wait half an hour for us to get here so he could tell us that, I feel better."

Warrick grinned. "Anxious to get to work?"

Catherine returned his smile. "Always."

* * *

_January 2016_

Sara shifts in her seat as another cramp seizes her abdomen. She sighs and rubs at the spot. Remembering her doctor's calm assurances about her body expanding to accommodate the baby when she was pregnant with Anna, she forces herself not to panic.

"Pregnancy is painful," the doctor told her with a smile. "Get used to it early, because it's going to be that way the whole time."

She smiles wryly. She managed to forget this part of the pain after Anna's birth.

"Hey," Nick says. "Doc Robbins just called. Our body is ready if you'd like to join me for the autopsy."

"Sure," Sara says, getting to her feet. "Sounds like fun."

Nick chuckles, and she smiles at him.

_At least it'll distract me from these cramps_.

* * *

_January 2004_

Grissom made his way through the house slowly, his investigator's eyes taking in as much first-blush detail as possible. He followed the hallway toward the bathroom, noting the complete _lack_ of signs of struggle.

He reached the bathroom, where Debbie Marlin's fully-clothed body was in the shower, folded over in what Grissom remembered as child's pose from his brief stint in yoga. A blood pool had formed around her head and neck. He stepped around to get a better look.

It was like looking at Sara.

He dropped to his knees beside the shower and stared at her face. The resemblance was horrifyingly stunning. Even her shaped eyebrows had a similar arch. A ripple of fear shot through him.

_Sara's fine. She's fine. She's outside with Catherine and Warrick. This _isn't_ Sara. It's not; you know it's not. _

Even so, he couldn't make himself look away from her. He couldn't make the chills stop running up and down his spine, or the goose bumps fade from his arms.

It that moment, Grissom could finally name his greatest fear.

* * *

_January 2016_

"I found ligature marks on her wrists, and extensive bruising," Doc Robbins says. "A lot of defensive wounds. She definitely didn't want to go down without a fight. My guess is that tying her up was a last resort when the killer couldn't get her to submit."

"What can you tell us about this wound here?" Nick asks, indicating a gash on the victim's forehead.

"Not fatal," he replies.

Doc Robbins continues talking, but Sara can't hear him as pain rips across her abdomen. She gasps and doubles over, nearly falling forward.

"Whoa!" Nick exclaims, catching her before she can fall. "Sara! What's wrong?"

"Sara?" Doc Robbins comes around the table faster than Nick and Sara have ever seen him move.

"Oh, no," she moans. "Oh, no, oh, no … _oh_!"

Another pain seizes her, and she clings to Nick's arm to stay on her feet.

"Sara," Doc says clearly and loudly, grabbing her arm. "Sara, listen to me. I need you to tell me what's wrong. Where is the pain?"

Keeping one hand on Nick's arm to hold herself up, she grabs the doctor's lab coat with the other.

"Doc …" she moans thickly. "Help me."

"I'm trying, Sara. You've got to tell me where it hurts."

"I'm nine weeks pregnant," she nearly whispers.

"Nick, lay her down," Doc commands. "_Now_!"

Without arguing, Nick lifts Sara up and lays her on an empty table.

"Call an ambulance, then call Grissom and tell him to meet us at Desert Palm," Robbins commands.

Nick nods and leaves to do his bidding. Sara looks up at Robbins with huge eyes.

"I'm losing my baby, aren't I?"

Watching the blood seep through her clothes, he knows that _yes_ is the only honest answer. "We'll get you to the hospital," he says. "We'll take good care of you."

Tears fill her eyes.

* * *

_January 2004_

After talking to the woman who found Debbie Marlin's body – her best friend – Catherine joined Grissom in the house. He had made it very clear that they were the only two permitted to enter. Catherine found that odd – while she knew that the car (Warrick's job) and the perimeter (Sara's) were important parts of the crime scene, she was stunned that he had not asked for their help in the house. _Exactly how many hours is he planning for the two of us to work?_

She made her way to the bathroom, where Grissom was crouched down next to the body. Looking at him, she wondered if he had moved since disappearing into the house after giving out assignments.

One look at the victim's face told her that no, he had not.

Debbie Marlin looked exactly like Sara.

_Creepy_.

Grissom was obviously taking this badly. Catherine had two options: she could acknowledge what they both knew – that this girl could be Sara's twin – or, she could ignore the obvious and remain totally professional. Looking at Grissom, who was clearly just clinging to his self-awareness, she decided that the second option was the best. Someone needed to keep him focused on his job.

She started talking about arterial spray and blood patterns. That captured his attention; he mentally returned to the scene.

Catherine shook her head. They could both deny it all they wanted, but there was clearly something going on between Grissom and Sara. She just wished she knew what it was.

* * *

"Hey, guys. Who let you in the house?"

"Oh, funny," Warrick said. He indicated the groceries on the counter. "We were just doing our jobs. We found groceries in the car, and decided to see what made it into the house."

"We're using the date on the milk to estimate a time of death," Sara added.

"Good job," Catherine said. "I have a new mission for you, though."

"Oh, yeah?" Warrick asked. "What's that?"

"We need someone to check out the drain pipes," Catherine said.

Sara and Warrick looked at each other. "Not it!" they exclaimed in unison, both touching their noses simultaneously.

"Okay," Warrick said. "Evens or odds?"

"Odds."

"You're on." He grinned as they both curled their hands into fists. "One, two, three, shoot!"

Sara's hand shot out with two fingers raised; Warrick held up four.

"Ha!" he exclaimed. "Have fun under the house!"

Sara made a face. "You're going next time."

"Only if you win next time."

"Whatever. I've got to go change."

His laughter followed her out of the house.

* * *

Grissom had to admit that he was relieved when he heard that Sara had gone under the house to collect samples from the pipes. He felt no guilt whatsoever about sending her back to the lab to begin processing.

He wanted her as far away from Debbie Marlin's body as possible. As strange as it was for him to see Sara's double's dead body, he knew it would be impossibly hard for her.

* * *

_January 2016_

A ringing phone in the middle of the night is not something he is accustomed to hearing anymore. If his sleep is interrupted by a phone call, it is for Sara, not him.

So, when the ringing phone pulls Grissom from a dreamless sleep, he ignores it. It isn't until it has rung four times and Sara has not answered it that he remembers that she is already at work. He fumbles across his nightstand for the ringing, vibrating object.

"Grissom," he mumbles, the past six years of a CSI-free existence fading away in the face of a midnight call.

"Grissom, it's Nick. Are you awake?"

"Yes," Grissom nearly slurs.

"Are you sure about that?"

Grissom takes a deep breath and releases it slowly, opening his eyes as wide as possible. "Yes," he says clearly. "I'm awake."

"Listen," Nick says, "we've got a bit of a problem on our hands."

"What's wrong?" Grissom asks.

"Sara had some cramping during autopsy –"

"Is the baby all right?" Grissom interrupts before Nick can even finish his statement.

"The paramedics are with her now," Nick says, obviously trying to stay calm. "We're taking her to Desert Palm."

"I'll meet you there."

Grissom hangs up without even thanking Nick for calling.

* * *

_January 2004_

Learning that their only suspect had not only been killed, but also, as Doc Robbins put it, fileted, was shocking, to say the least. Even though they had not even had the opportunity to speak with Debbie Marlin's boyfriend, Grissom, Brass and Catherine had all agreed that he was a very likely candidate to be their murderer. The discovery of his dismembered body had sent them back to square one.

While Catherine and Warrick returned to the lab with the body and other evidence, Grissom stayed at the crime scene. He sat in front of Debbie's dresser, examining a butterfly figurine she had placed there. There were a profusion of butterflies throughout the house; she must have loved them. Grissom could certainly relate to that.

He put the figurine down and looked at the photos on the dresser. Most of them showed Debbie by herself. Even though Grissom stared at pictures of Debbie, he only saw Sara. How could he not? Aside from the obvious physical similarities, there was something about her … Her photos showed the same vivacious spirit that Grissom had always admired in Sara. The same spirit that, if he were honest, had attracted him to her during a seminar years before, and had held his interest ever since.

In his moment of introspective honesty, Grissom let himself take it one step further: he was not only attracted to Sara. He could very easily love her.

And, the very idea of doing so was terrifying.

He put down the framed picture and shook his head slightly. He had come to do a job: to find justice for a woman who had been murdered in her own home. It was time to do just that.

* * *

When Catherine arrived at the crime scene over eight hours later, Grissom was still working. She stared at him in shock.

"Don't tell me you never went home."

He looked up at her and held her eyes for a moment. "Okay," he said, giving her the exact answer she _didn't_ want.

It took only moments for Catherine to realize that she had no chance of getting Grissom to go home before they had solved the case. Hoping that they would be able to wrap it up within less than a week – she had a feeling that Grissom's current adrenaline would keep him awake for that long – she forced him to eat, then agreed to work with him.

Each case they worked had to be solved for the victim and his or her family. Catherine knew that, and focused on it each time she was handed a new assignment.

But, this case was different. Grissom was obsessed with solving it like she had never seen before. And, she knew exactly what he was doing. He wasn't solving this case for Debbie or her family. He was solving it for Sara.

And, Catherine realized quite quickly that she needed to solve it for Grissom. If she didn't – if they as a team didn't – Grissom could very well break.

* * *

"Should we try to run it again?"

Sara sighed. "Why? We've already gone over it with Grissom and come up empty."

"There has to be _something_," Warrick said.

"Maybe not," Sara said, dropping her head into her hands. "Maybe we've finally found someone who committed the perfect murder."

"Doesn't that usually mean the body is never found?"

She glared at him. "Don't ruin this for me."

Warrick chuckled as Sara's phone began to ring. She picked it up and saw Catherine's name on the display.

"It's Catherine," she said. "Maybe they found something." She opened the phone. "Sidle."

"Hey, Sara, I need a favor," Catherine said. "Grissom and I just found a toe print at the victim's house, and we need to exclude her toes. Would you mind printing her?"

"No problem."

"Thanks, Sara."

Sara closed her phone and looked at Warrick. "They found a toe print. They want me to print the vic to exclude her."

"And …?"

"And … we'll see where it goes from there."

* * *

"Hey, Doc," Sara said as she walked into the morgue.

"Hi, Sara," he said with a smile. "What brings you down here?"

"I need to toe print Debbie Marlin," she replied.

The coroner raised his eyebrows. "Grissom wants you to do that?"

"Catherine," she said, puzzled by his expression. "Is … something wrong?"

"No," he said a bit too quickly. "She's over here."

Sara followed Robbins to the appropriate drawer. He started to pull it open then stepped back with a smile.

"Sorry," he said. "I don't need to do your job for you."

"Hey, I almost feel like I'm doing yours when I open these," she said.

He nodded, his smile fading slightly. "I'll just be in my office … if you need anything."

"Thanks," Sara said, wondering what she could possibly need.

Doc Robbins disappeared, and Sara pulled the drawer open. She pulled a stool up to Debbie's feet and immediately began her printing task.

"_Sara, you take the perimeter."_

"_Grissom wants you to do that?"_

Why were both men working so hard to keep her from the victim? Had she done something wrong? Was her work slipping?

She glanced up at the woman's face. _What do you know about all this?_

Debbie did not move, of course, but there was something there …

Sara completed her task, glancing back at Debbie's face periodically. Once she had printed her last toe, she put her supplies down and wheeled her stool to Debbie's head. For the first time, she truly looked at their victim.

It was like looking in a mirror. Debbie could have been _her_.

Suddenly, everything slid into place. Grissom's reluctance to let her get anywhere near the body. His borderline insane obsession with the case. Not going home for days. Leaning so heavily on Catherine while shutting Sara out.

This wasn't about Debbie. It was about Sara … and, it was about Grissom.

* * *

_January 2016_

"Jake. Jake, wake up."

Jake shakes off sleep in a matter of seconds, leaving Grissom impressed. His ability to wake up rivals even Sara's.

"What's wrong?" he asks.

"Something happened to Sara at work," Grissom replies. "I've got to go to Desert Palm."

"Is she all right?" Jake exclaims, jumping out of bed.

"As far as I know," Grissom says quite honestly. "But, I need to get over there. I don't know when I'll be back, but, until then, you are in charge. Take care of Anna, and get her ready for school. I'll be home in time to take you both there."

"Are you sure?" Jake asks. "We can take the bus."

"I'll be back," Grissom promises. "You have my cell phone number, right?"

"Yes."

"Good. Just call me if you need me."

Jake nods. "We'll be fine."

Grissom smiles faintly. "I know."

"And …"

"Yes?"

"Tell Sara … I really hope she's okay."

Grissom nods. "I'll let her know."

* * *

_January 2004_

"It was him," Grissom said with conviction. "It had to be."

"Well, as far as I can tell, he doesn't have an alibi," Brass said. "So, that makes it possible."

"He's a surgeon," Catherine said. "He'd be able to cleanly slit Debbie's throat and to filet Michael with extreme precision."

"And, he uses the cocktail of hair loss remedies that Greg identified on the hair found in the victim's house," Grissom said. "It looks like Dr. Lurie is our man."

"I don't know if we'll be able to hold him," Brass said. "We don't have the murder weapon or any evidence that he was actually in the bathroom. The hair was found in the spare room."

"And, we don't have motive," Catherine added. "Why did he kill them?"

Grissom looked at them both as though they had lost their minds. "Jealousy," he said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "She was dating Lurie and left him for the younger man."

"The neighbor did say she dated a lot of doctors," Brass said. "Maybe he's got a point."

"Well, without proof, he doesn't have much beyond a theory," Catherine said.

Grissom raised an eyebrow. "Sometimes, a theory is all it takes."

* * *

_January 2016_

Grissom runs through the hospital doors and to the front desk.

"I'm looking for Sara Grissom – Sidle – Sidle-Grissom … I don't know how she checked in."

"Okay, sir," the woman behind the desk says calmly. "Give me just a minute."

Grissom nods and just stops himself from drumming his fingers on the desk while he waits. He settles for shoving his hands into his pockets and beating them against his legs.

"She's still in the ER," she says. "You just go –"

"I know where it is, thanks," Grissom interrupts. "Thank you for your help."

He takes off at a near run for the emergency room.

* * *

_January 2004_

"We've got the suspect coming in for interrogation today," Catherine commented as she poured herself a cup of coffee.

"Oh?" Sara asked, trying to appear unaffected. "Will you be there?"

"Grissom and Brass are doing it." She looked at Sara, wondering what it would have done to Dr. Lurie to see _her_ show up in the interrogation room. _Like seeing a ghost_ …

"Maybe I'll go watch it," she said slowly.

"Yeah," Catherine agreed, "maybe you should."

* * *

Going in, Sara knew that their evidence was shaky. She knew that, without a confession, they had no case.

She also knew that if anyone could get a confession from a reluctant suspect, it would be Brass and Grissom. They had a way of making people talk that Sara had always admired.

Ten minutes in, she knew it wouldn't work this time.

Lurie was smart – _too_ smart. He gave nothing away, and acted almost unmoved by Debbie's death. Sara thought he got a bit carried away with the lack of emotion. A colleague, a woman he had dated, had been brutally murdered in her own home, along with one of his promising surgical residents. He had to feel _something_.

In the end, their lack of evidence was their undoing. Lurie and his attorney rose to go. Grissom shook his head slightly. He couldn't let them leave. He couldn't let Debbie's killer walk out that door without so much as a whisper of guilt.

"It's sad, isn't it, Doc? Guys like us."

Lurie stopped and raised his head, listening to Grissom's quiet voice. On the other side of the glass, Sara gasped. Was Grissom actually comparing himself to a murderer? _No_ _… Griss … you're nothing like him …_

"A couple of middle-aged men who've allowed their work to consume their lives," Grissom continued. "The only time we ever touch other people is when we're wearing our latex gloves."

That captured Lurie's full attention; he turned to look at Grissom.

"We wake up one day and realize that for fifty years, we haven't really lived at all," Grissom said in the same low voice. "But, then, all of a sudden … we get a second chance. Somebody young and beautiful shows up, somebody … we could care about. She offers us a new life, with her."

Grissom paused to draw a breath. Lurie's eyes were still riveted to him.

"But, we have a big decision to make, right?" Grissom asked. "Because, we have to risk everything we've worked for in order to have her." He looked away, almost as though forgetting that Lurie was listening. "I couldn't do it." His eyes snapped back to the doctor and he nodded slightly. "But you did. You risked it all. And she showed you a wonderful life, didn't she? … But then she took it away and gave it to somebody else. And you were lost. … So, you took her life. … You killed them both … and now you have nothing."

"I'm still here," Lurie said confidently.

"Are you?" Grissom asked in a lost voice.

Lurie and his attorney left the interrogation room. Grissom shook his head. He had failed – in so many ways. He exhaled deeply and dropped his head to his chest.

Sara stood in the observation room and stared at him for a long, heartbreaking minute. She was so torn and conflicted that she had no idea what to do.

Brass moved across the room, reminding her of his presence. She roused herself, realizing that she needed to move.

Sara walked quickly out of the observation room. She wanted to be gone before Grissom and Brass came out of the room and saw her. She didn't want them to know where she had been – what she had heard. She nearly ran out of PD and into her car. The clock illuminated as she turned the car on; it was over an hour after her shift's end.

"Perfect," she muttered.

She drove out of the parking lot and turned toward her apartment building. There was a liquor store on the way. She would stop, she would buy a bottle of vodka, and she would go home and make herself a drink. And another. And another.

For the first time since college, she intended to get drunk all alone.

* * *

_January 2016_

Grissom walks into Sara's room. Nick and Doc Robbins are sitting with her; they both jump up to leave when Grissom enters the room.

Sara looks at him with teary eyes. He meets her eyes and feels all the breath leave his body. He crosses the room as quickly as possible and sits down on her bed, pulling her into his arms.

"Gil," she whispers. "I lost her. I lost our baby. I'm so sorry."

She begins to sob against him. Grissom holds her tightly without speaking.

There are no words to be spoken.


	21. Slow Healing

A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing! We hope you enjoy this one.

I don't own CSI.

* * *

_January 2016_

Grissom holds Sara until she falls asleep. He gently lowers her fully onto the bed, then sinks back into the chair Nick vacated upon his arrival.

For a long moment, he watches her sleep.

For a long moment, all he can feel is relief that she's all right.

A midnight call from Nick is a terrifying thing. Grissom has only received one before; that night, Sara was struck and bitten by a suspect she was attempting to process. Grissom met her at the ER, where she smiled ruefully.

_I guess I've learned that I'm not the strongest girl to walk the halls of PD_, was all she said.

And, although concerned about her, Grissom was able to see the humor in the situation. After all, she was fine, and, really, it was nothing that hadn't happened to the rest of them at least once.

But, this time …

Yes, Sara is fine. Physically, at least.

But, their baby isn't. Their baby never will be.

As the weight of the loss of the child he would never meet settles over him, Grissom bows his head in sorrow.

* * *

_January 2004_

Sitting with his head bowed, Grissom barely noticed Brass leaving the interrogation room. Focusing his thoughts enough to be that observant was beyond him.

_I couldn't do it._

His own words ran through his head over and over again until his very breath seemed to come in time with them.

_I couldn't do it._

It was so very _honest_.

When their relationship had failed, Grissom had never accepted any culpability. He had been the one to end it, but he had done so, in his own thinking, because of Sara's inability to function within the confines of the barriers they had set. She had been unable to separate their work and personal lives, and he had, in a sense, punished her by taking away the personal side.

Work was their strong point. Romance was not.

"Why?"

A beat passed before he realized that he had asked the question aloud. Stunned, he looked up and found himself alone in the room.

Shaking his head, he slowly gathered his things and left the interrogation room. He needed to go back to CSI.

* * *

_January 2016_

A hand on his shoulder shakes Grissom from his reverie. He looks up to see Catherine standing over him.

"Cath," he rasps out.

She looks into his blood-shot eyes and feels her heart break. "Gil, I am so, so sorry."

Without a word, Grissom stands up and hugs her. Stunned, Catherine hugs him tightly, knowing that this gesture is more telling than any words could be about his mental and emotional state.

"How is she?" she whispers, nodding toward the sleeping Sara.

Grissom inclines his head toward the door, and Catherine nods. They step out into the hall together.

"She's …" Grissom shrugs helplessly.

Catherine nods. "Yeah. I know."

"How did you know?"

"Nick called me."

"Yeah, he's good for that."

She nods. "Listen, Gil, if there's anything I can do …"

"Actually …" Grissom glances at his watch. "My kids need to leave for school in an hour, but I'd hate to leave Sara alone …"

"I'll take them to school."

Grissom's eyes widen. "I was going to ask you to sit with Sara so I could go home."

She shakes her head. "She needs her husband right now, not a friend. I'll take the kids to school, then I'll come back to visit Sara."

Grissom blinks. "Okay," he says at last. "Cath … thank you."

She smiles sadly and hugs him. "Take care of her."

"Yeah. I will."

* * *

Jake can't sleep after Grissom leaves. He sits in his room, flipping through the pages of his biology book, wishing it could tell him what is happening at the hospital. To say that he is _worried_ about Sara would be an understatement. He is, by his own estimation, terrified.

"She'll be fine," he says aloud. "She _has_ to be. She can't …"

The words stick in his throat, and he returns to turning the pages of his textbook.

His alarm goes off, breaking the silence of his bedroom. He turns it off without thinking, then sits up straight.

"Oh, no. Anna."

He slides off his bed, and makes the short journey to her room. Her door his slightly ajar; he can see her sprawled across her bed, sound asleep. Taking a fortifying breath, he pushes the door open all the way and enters her room. He walks across quietly, then kneels down next to her bed.

"Anna," he says softly. "Anna, it's time to wake up."

She does not respond. Sighing, he grabs her arm and shakes it gently. "Anna, wake up."

She opens her eyes slowly, and blinks several times until he comes into focus. "Jake?"

He smiles weakly. "Good morning."

"Why are you here?"

"I live here."

"I know that," she says, sitting up. "Why are you waking me up? Daddy always does that."

"He's not here."

"Where is he?"

He bit his lower lip for a moment. "At the hospital," he finally says.

Anna frowns. "Is he sick?"

"No … your mom is."

Anna shakes her head. "Mommy _never_ gets sick," she says. "Even when I got the flu and Daddy got it last year, she wasn't sick."

"Well, she is this time."

"And, she's at the hospital?"

"Yes."

Fear creeps into her eyes. "But … people only go to the hospital when they're _very_ sick." The fear morphs into panic. "Is Mommy _very_ sick, Jake?"

"I … don't know, Anna."

"Does Daddy know?"

"I don't know."

She begins to cry. "I don't want Mommy to be sick!"

"I know," Jake says. "I don't, either."

"Can't Daddy make her better?"

"That's why she's at the hospital, Anna. So the doctors can make her better."

"But I want her here!" Anna sobs.

"I know," Jake says again, feeling completely helpless. He has no idea how to make her feel better, and, if he's honest, he really just wants to cry along with her.

"Anna? Jake? Where are you guys?"

"Aunt Catherine!" Anna exclaims. She jumps off her bed so quickly that she nearly topples over Jake, and runs out of her room.

Jake follows behind her, watching as she and Catherine meet up in the hallway. Catherine grabs Anna to her, lifting her off her feet and into a comforting embrace.

"Hey, little girl," she croons, "don't cry. It's okay."

"Jake said that Mommy is in the hospital!" she sobs.

"Well, sweetness, that's true," Catherine says. "But, the doctors are going to make her all better, and have her home with you again in no time."

"That's what Jake said."

"Jake is right," Catherine says, giving him a smile over Anna's head.

"Where's Daddy?"

"He's still with your mom," Catherine says. "But, I came over here to help you guys get ready for school, and then to take you there."

"I don't want to go to school. I want to see Mommy."

"Mommy is sleeping right now," Catherine says. "So, you can't even talk to her. It's better if you go to school, and then, when you get home, she'll be here waiting for you. Does that sound like a good idea?"

Anna nods.

"Okay, then. Let's go get ready for school."

* * *

_January 2004_

Grissom was alone in his office; for once, he had closed the door upon arrival. He sat at his desk, staring at his computer screen without seeing it.

"Why couldn't I do it? Why couldn't it work? Why did we give up on our personal life?"

"_Okay," she said. "What isn't working for you?"_

"_This," he said, waving his hand between them. "Us."_

_Sara's eyes grew huge. "What do you mean?"_

"_Sara, we agreed when we started this that we'd keep the personal stuff out of the lab."_

"_I know."_

"_We haven't … we can't."_

"_What do you mean?" she asked again._

"_Honey, our personal relationship is obviously affecting our work relationship. And, what affects our work relationship affects the team. So …"_

_Sara knew what he was going to say, but she would not say it for him. She sat in silence, willing herself not to cry while she watched him search for the right words._

"_We need to end our personal relationship," he finally said, his voice just above a whisper. "We can still be colleagues, of course … friends …"_

"_Friends," Sara repeated, just controlling her voice. She looked away, then looked back at him. "Sure, Griss. We'll be _friends_."_

"_Sara …"_

_She shook her head. "You know, I think we're done here. I've got a lot of work waiting for me back at the lab."_

_She stood and left him alone with two mugs on the table. He watched her walk out the door. His heart was breaking, but he made no move to stop her._

He had let her go. He hadn't stopped her.

"Why?"

At the time, it had seemed like the right decision. There was so much anger … resentment … the team was falling apart …

But … was it?

True, he had seen Sara seeking special treatment as his girlfriend. And, she had likely seen some deficiencies in the way he treated her, as well. He couldn't be sure, though. They had never really discussed it …

Weren't relationships supposed to include open, honest communication? Had theirs?

Grissom bowed his head. The reality was that he had given up before giving their relationship a chance. It was as though he had thrown away an experiment before truly assessing and adjusting for all the variables.

"I … have to try again," he whispered to his computer. "I can't give up on her that easily. Because … truly … it was going to be a wonderful life."

* * *

When Sara got to work the next night, she was stunned to find that Grissom had assigned the two of them together to work a homicide. The body had been found in the desert, which meant that they would have a long car ride together, in addition to working together for the night. And, to add insult to injury, Grissom actually seemed _pleased_ about the arrangement.

Sara put her kit in the back of their SUV and walked around to the passenger side. Grissom was already behind the wheel, waiting for her.

"We've got a bit of a drive," Grissom said as she climbed into the car.

"Yeah, I looked at the assignment slip," Sara replied.

"Brass said there's a lot of insect activity on the body, so we'll have a lot of documenting to do," he said as he backed out of the parking space, not at all put off by her rude comment.

"Great," Sara said listlessly.

_This is going to be one _hell_ of a long night._

_

* * *

_

_January 2016_

When Sara wakes up, Grissom is the first thing she sees. He is sitting next to her bed, staring at her as though willing her his strength.

"Gil," she says, her voice raspy.

"Hi," he replies, sitting up straighter and leaning forward to grab her hand. "How are you feeling?"

She draws a deep, shaky breath. "Empty."

"Oh, Sara."

Her tears spill over.

Grissom climbs onto the bed with her, pulling her tightly against him. She buries her face in his chest and sobs.

* * *

By the time he gets to lunch, Jake feels it is safe to say that he has definitely had better days. He is exhausted from his lack of sleep, worried about Sara, and, after her tears that morning, worried about Anna. His head hurts, and he just wants to go back in time twenty-four hours and do something to make everything better.

"Hey."

He looks up to see Molly sitting down with him. He is confused; generally, he eats lunch alone. She hasn't tried to sit with him in the cafeteria since his first day at school.

"Hi," he replies.

Molly bites her lip, obviously choosing her words. "You don't mind if I sit here, do you?"

"No," Jake says.

"You look like you mind."

"I don't," he says again. "I'm just surprised, that's all. You never sit with me."

"Don't make me feel bad."

"I'm not trying to. I know you have friends to eat with."

She nods slightly.

"Why aren't you sitting with them? Did you have a fight?"

"No, nothing like that. I just … I thought you looked like you could use a friend. Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine."

She studies him critically. "Really?"

"Really."

"I don't believe you."

Jake sighs. "Are you going to leave me alone?"

"Not until you tell me what's wrong."

"Fine," he says, exhaling. "Last night, my foster dad woke me up to tell me that my foster mom is in the hospital. Something happened to her at work. I don't know what happened, or if she's okay. He went straight to the hospital and didn't come home this morning. One of their friends came over to bring us to school. All she would say is that the doctors are taking good care of Sara. And … I'm exhausted and my head hurts. Happy?"

Molly shakes her head mutely. She reaches across to cover his hand with hers.

Jake is startled by the contact, but instantly recognizes how much he needs it. He turns his palm up so that he can wrap his fingers around hers. Molly tightens her grip on his hand, hoping to provide some small comfort.

They sit like that until the bell rings to signal the end of lunch.

* * *

_January 2004_

"So, what have you been up to recently?" Grissom asked as they drove out of Las Vegas.

"Sky diving," Sara said promptly.

Grissom looked way from the road to glance at her. "What?"

"I'm kidding, Griss," Sara said with a sigh. "I've been working. You know that. You make the schedules."

"Yes, but … in your free time."

She sighed again. "Why do you care?"

He licked his lips and hesitated for a moment. "Sara, I'm sorry," he said at last.

She frowned in confusion. "For what?"

"There was a time when we were friends," he said. "And, even though I promised we could still be friends, I haven't really … been a friend to you. I'd like to change that."

Sara exhaled. _Great. Fan-freakin'-tastic_. "Grissom, I understand that things have been awkward between us. And, I know that a lot of that is my –"

"It's not," he interrupted. "I've avoided taking the blame for a lot when it comes to you, and I'd like to stop that now." He paused. "And, Sara … I'd like for us to be friends again."

"Okay," she finally agreed, hoping that it would get him to leave her alone.

He smiled. "Okay."

* * *

_January 2016_

When Jake and Anna meet up between their two school buildings at the end of the day, they are both struck by a sense of relief at seeing one another. Jake hides his feelings; Anna does not. She runs up to him and throws her arms around him.

"Will Daddy be here?" she asks.

"I hope so," Jake replies, hugging her back.

They are both disappointed; Catherine is waiting for them in the parking lot.

"Why are you here?" Anna asks, taking Catherine's offered hand.

"Because the doctors haven't released your mom yet," she says, not remotely effected by Anna's rather rude question. "They expect it to be soon, though, so your dad wanted me to get you so that he could be at the hospital to bring your mom home."

"Oh."

Both children are silent on the drive home. Catherine, knowing how worried they are, does not try to draw them out.

All three are disappointed to see that Grissom and Sara are not home when they arrive.

"What is taking so long?" Jake finally asks. "Is Sara that sick?"

"They're going to release her today," Catherine says. "She's going to be fine. But, there are a lot of patients in the hospital, and it takes the doctors a long time to get around to see them all. So, I'm sure that's what's keeping them."

She looks around the room, trying to find something other than homework to distract the children. Her eyes fall on Anna's crayons.

"Hey, I've got an idea."

Jake and Anna both look at her expectantly.

"You guys could make a welcome home sign for your mom," Catherine says. "I'll bet she'd like that."

"Yeah!" Anna exclaims, suddenly excited. "Jake is good at drawing. You can make the letters, and I'll color them."

Catherine looks at him expectantly. "Jake?"

He nods. "Okay. Let's do it."

* * *

"I don't want to do this."

Grissom frowns at his wife, who is perched on the edge of her hospital bed, her legs hanging over the side. "You've wanted to go home since you got here."

Tears fill her eyes. "I don't want to go home without our baby."

Grissom sits down beside her. "I know, Sara. I wanted our baby, too. But, honey, sometimes –"

"Gil, don't," Sara interrupts. "Don't tell me that it's God's will or that the baby is better off not knowing the pain of this world. Don't explain the biology, about how miscarriages are the body's way of 'dealing with' an unviable fetus, or some kind of quality control." Her tears spilled over. "I know all of that. I just … I'm selfish. I want my baby."

Grissom wraps his arms around her. "I know," he says again. He presses a kiss against her temple. "I know."

He waits until she draws a shaky breath and begins to wipe the tears from her cheeks before speaking again.

"Honey, we do need to go home. We've got two kids there who are likely worried to death about you … and, likely wearing Catherine out."

"Catherine's with the kids?"

"Yes."

"I guess they probably are worried, huh?"

"Yes."

She nods. "Okay. Let's go home."

* * *

"They're coming! I can see Daddy's car coming down the road!"

Anna runs from the window to the kitchen, where she and Jake left their sign.

"Here, let's stand here with it," she says, taking a position. "That way Mommy will see us as soon as she comes in the house."

Jake nods and stands with her, grabbing his side of the poster board. He is utterly terrified. _What if she's not okay? What if it's just Grissom coming home? What if Catherine was wrong? What if -?_

The door opens, and Sara steps through it. She is extremely pale and looks exhausted, but she's whole and walking. Relief floods through Jake.

"Mommy!" Anna exclaims, jumping up and down in excitement. "You're home!"

"I'm home," Sara says automatically, barely seeing her bouncing daughter.

Her eyes are trained on the sign the children are supporting between them.

_WELCOME HOME, MOMMY! LOVE, ANNA AND JAKE_

Though the writing is clearly Jake's, the coloring is Anna's, as are the hearts drawn around it. Tears fill Sara's eyes again.

She crosses the room in two strides, and pulls both children to her, crushing the sign between the three of them.

"Thank you," she whispers. "I love you both, too."

Her words pierce straight to Jake's very core. He is glad that she is hugging him so tightly. It gives him a reason to close his eyes to hide his tears.


	22. Shifting

A/N: Happy New Year!

Some inspiration and dialogue are borrowed from episodes 415, "Early Rollout" and 416, "Getting Off."

I don't own CSI.

* * *

_January 2016_

"Mommy, I was so scared!"

"I know, baby, and I'm sorry," Sara says, hugging Anna even tighter. "I didn't want to scare you."

"Jake said that you were sick."

Sara pulls back from both children and looks over their heads at Grissom and Catherine. Catherine meets her eyes and nods.

"Hey, I need to get going," she says. "I'll come back in a few days, Sara, and see how you're doing."

"Thank you, Catherine," Sara says. "For everything."

Catherine squeezes her shoulder on her way to the door. She is about to let herself out when Grissom, who followed her across the room, stops her with a hand on her arm. She looks up at him with questions in her eyes.

"Thank you," he nearly whispers. "Cath … I …" He shrugs slightly. "I wouldn't have made it through the past twelve hours without you."

She smiles a sad smile and hugs him. "Take care of her, Gil," she whispers. "She really needs you now."

Grissom nods and releases her.

"You'll call me if you need anything?"

"Yes," Grissom promises.

"Good." She looks past him to where Sara is hugging Anna tightly again. "I'll be over soon."

He nods. "She'll like that."

Catherine nods sadly. "Take care."

Grissom nods again, and Catherine lets herself out of the house. Grissom turns back to his family in time to see Sara release their daughter from her arms. Anna studies her mother critically.

"You don't look sick," she says. "Did the doctors make you all better?"

Sara glances at Grissom, who nods slightly.

"Come sit with me for a minute," Sara says. "Both of you. Daddy and I need to tell you what happened."

* * *

_January 2004_

"Hi, Sara."

Sara looked up from the clothes she was processing as Grissom joined her in the lab. "Hello." She immediately dropped her eyes back to her work.

He sat down on the stool across from her. "What case are you working?"

"Anderson murder," she replied.

"And, these clothes belong to …"

Sara just stopped herself from sighing. He was her supervisor, after all, and had a right to know what she was doing. "These are the wife's clothes. I'm checking for GSR, among other things."

Grissom nodded. "Do you like her as a suspect?"

"Not really, but she needs to be excluded."

"Why do you think she's innocent?"

Sara finally looked up. "Grissom, I'm working the case with Warrick. We've both agreed that she's not a good suspect, and Brass is on board. He's already looking into other leads."

"I wasn't questioning your judgment," Grissom said, holding up his hands as if to fend off her verbal attack. "I just …"

"You just what? Don't trust my work?"

"No, that's not … you're an outstanding CSI, Sara. You know that I trust your work."

"Then, why …?"

He shrugged. "I just wanted to know what you're up to."

Sara sighed. "Is this all part of that _friends_ thing you talked about before?"

"Yeah," he said with a sheepish smile. "I'm not very good at it, am I?"

Sara finally smiled. "No." She looked back at the blouse in front of her.

"I'm sorry," he said, getting up from his stool. "I'll let you work."

Sara looked up again and watched him leave. Part of her wanted to call him back, to have a real conversation with him.

But …

The larger part of her refused. She couldn't let him draw her in again.

She couldn't let him break her heart again.

* * *

_January 2016_

"What happened, Mommy?" Anna asks as they all sit down on the couch. She is sandwiched between her parents; Jake is nearly falling off the edge on the other side of Sara. "Why were you sick?"

Sara draws a deep breath and exhales slowly. She looks at Grissom, who holds her eyes until she nods. "The … the baby got sick, Anna. That's what made me sick."

Anna's eyes grow to the size of saucers. "I didn't know that babies could get sick before they're born."

"When they do … especially when they're so very tiny … it's very hard to help them." Sara's voice breaks, and she swallows before continuing. "The baby died, Anna."

Jake grabs Sara's arm. She turns to him with tear-filled eyes and puts her other hand over his.

"What?" Anna gasps. "Like Daddy's cockroaches?"

"Yes," Sara nearly whispers. "And, because the baby was still inside me when it happened, I got sick and had to go to the hospital."

"But … you're better. Why isn't the baby better?"

"The baby was just too little, Anna," Grissom says, taking over as the tears begin to slide down Sara's cheeks. "The doctors couldn't save her."

"I'm sorry, Anna," Sara says through her tears. "I know you wanted the baby very much."

Anna begins to cry, and Sara grabs her, hugging her tightly and crying with her. Grissom leans into them, wrapping his arms around both of his girls, trying to offer the support and comfort he knows they need. One of his hands falls on Jake's shoulder.

Although he remained stoic through the entire thing, Grissom is sure that Jake needs support and comfort almost as much as Anna does.

* * *

_January 2004_

"Hey."

Sara looked around her open locker door as Greg entered the locker room. "Hey," she replied.

"What are you up to?"

"Leaving work," Sara replied.

Greg grinned. "Yes, Captain Obvious, I can see that. I meant, what are your plans beyond walking out the door?"

"I'm going to go home," Sara said. "Maybe I'll rent a movie on the way."

Greg shook his head. "Bad plan."

"Oh, really?" Sara said, unable to suppress a smile in the face of his excited grin. "Why is that, may I ask?"

"Because it's boring and _definitely_ not social."

"Oh, really?"

"Really. So, I think you should come out for a drink with me."

Sara cocked her head to the side and looked at him for a minute that seemed to stretch on forever. "How do you mean that?"

"How should I mean it?"

"Friends and coworkers."

"Then, I mean it as friends and coworkers."

Sara grinned at him. "You're on. Let's go."

* * *

_January 2016_

Jake isn't surprised when Molly sits down with him at lunch the next day. He almost expects it.

"Hi," she says.

He tries to smile, but fails.

"Oh, no," she says, her face falling. "Is your foster mom worse?"

He starts to nod, then changes his mind. "She's home now."

"Well, that's good, right?"

Jake sighs and runs his hands over his face. "She had a miscarriage."

"Oh, Jake, that's awful!"

"Yeah. She's pretty upset about it. She just kept crying yesterday." He shakes his head. "Anna's pretty crushed, too."

"So, you all knew she was pregnant?"

He nods.

She covers his hand with hers. "I'm really sorry, Jake."

He looks down at their joined hands, then up at her. "Thanks, Molly," he says quietly. "I … I feel bad, you know? For being upset about it."

Molly frowns. "Why wouldn't you be upset?"

He shrugs. "I don't know. I guess … It's not my baby, you know? It wasn't even really my brother or sister – it was Anna's. I feel …"

"The Grissoms have made you part of their family," Molly says softly. "You have a right to be sad, Jake. It may not have been your blood brother or sister, but …" She squeezes his hand. "I've seen you with Anna. As one who is a big sister, I feel very qualified to tell you that you are _definitely_ a big brother to her. So … I think you lost a baby brother or sister, too."

He takes a shaky breath, and manages to give her a small smile. "Thanks."

She returns the smile. "I'm here for you, Jake. You know that, right? If you need someone to talk to, I'm your girl."

Jake holds her eyes in a silent _thank you_. He is completely speechless.

* * *

_January 2004_

"That was fun, right?"

Sara grinned. "Yes, Greg, it was fun," she said. "Seriously, thanks. I really needed that, and I didn't even realize it."

"Good," Greg said. "Well, not that you didn't know what you needed, but good that you got it."

Sara grinned. "And, now, I need some sleep."

"Yeah, me, too."

They separated to go to their cars – neither felt too intoxicated to drive –, and headed home.

Sara felt on the verge of collapse as she nearly stumbled into her apartment. She shook her head.

"Maybe not too drunk to drive, but probably too tired," she sighed. "I hope Greg made it home okay …"

A few text messages later, she felt she could go to sleep without worrying about her friend. After washing her face and changing, she collapsed onto her bed, expecting sleep to claim her immediately.

Ten minutes later, she realized that it wasn't going to happen for her.

Sighing, she got out of bed and poured herself a glass of wine. Although probably not the safest habit, it often worked to combat her insomnia.

Twenty minutes later, she was sound asleep.

* * *

Her ringing cell phone jarred Sara from her dreamless sleep. She frowned at her clock as she reached for the phone. She hadn't even been asleep for an hour yet.

"Sidle," she said, trying to sound as awake as possible.

"Sara, it's Grissom. I'm so sorry to do this to you, but we've got a high-profile, double murder. It's all hands on deck."

Sara managed to suppress her sigh of frustration. "Okay. I'll be there."

As she packed her bag to leave, she was sure to include a package of cough drops. Even brushing her teeth repeatedly hadn't masked the smell of liquor on her breath. The cough drops would have to cover for her.

* * *

_January 2016_

It isn't so bad when Grissom, Anna and Jake are home.

With the three of them to distract her, Sara can forget, even for a few minutes at a time, the overwhelming sadness that wants to drag her under. She can smile at them, eat with them, and pretend to be normal again.

But, when they are gone, and the house is quiet …

It becomes impossible to forget.

It is when she is alone that Catherine arrives for a visit. Sara has never been so happy to see her; tears gather in her eyes as soon as she opens the door to admit her guest.

"Oh, Sara," Catherine sighs, hugging her even before the door has shut behind her. "I've been so worried about you."

Sara tries to laugh and pulls back from Catherine's embrace to wipe away her tears. "I'm sorry," she says. "I'm not crying because I'm sad. I'm actually very happy to see you – relieved, even."

"Relieved?" Catherine repeats, shutting the door.

Sara nods. "Now I don't have to be alone anymore."

Catherine touches her arm. "Gil's at work?"

Sara nods again. "Come in and sit down. Can I get you anything?"

Catherine shakes her head as they sit down together on the couch. "I just came to visit, not to eat your food."

Sara smiles slightly. "Okay."

"How are you feeling?" Catherine asks.

"Physically, I'm fine. I'm going back to work tomorrow."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Yes," Sara says firmly. "I need something to distract me … to get my mind off …"

"Sara, you're allowed to grieve," Catherine says. She takes Sara's hand. "You didn't just lose something you wanted. You lost a child. You need to let yourself feel that loss."

"I am," Sara said, her tears beginning to fall again. "Believe me, Cat, I'm feeling it. Probably more than I've felt anything in a long time."

"Good," Catherine says. She looks away for a moment, then looks back at Sara again. "I had a miscarriage before I had Lindsey."

Sara's eyes widen. "What?"

Catherine nods. "It was several years before I had her … I hadn't even met Eddie yet. It was an unplanned pregnancy, and I was completely panicked over the whole thing. I didn't know how to tell my boyfriend, so I didn't. I didn't tell anyone, actually. It was like, if I didn't talk about it, it wasn't happening.

"When I started cramping, I knew it was a miscarriage … and I thought I should be relieved. I wouldn't have to deal with it anymore.

"But, Sara, I wasn't relieved. I … When the doctor told me the baby was gone, I cried for an hour. I couldn't believe it. Somewhere, in all that time I spent trying to pretend this wasn't happening, I had fallen in love with my child." Tears fill her eyes. "Even now, looking back, it's hard to think about the fact that I'll never get to meet that little one."

Sara stares at her with wide eyes. "But …you have Lindsey now …"

"Thank God for her," Catherine says with feeling. "I told Eddie the minute I was late, and he was with me when I took the pregnancy test – and proposed as soon as we saw those two lines. After what happened the first time … I didn't want to go through any part of this without being honest – both with him and with myself. And …" A tear breaks free and trails down her cheek. "I didn't want Lindsey to ever think, even before she was fully formed, that I didn't want her. That I didn't love her. That I didn't want to be her mother." Another tear slides down her cheek. "That's what I regret the most about my first pregnancy, Sara. That, somehow, the baby knew how I felt."

A tear trails down Sara's cheek.

"And, that, Sara, is something you don't have to worry about at all," Catherine says, squeezing her hand. "That baby was loved from the minute it was conceived, and I know that it knew that. You loved your little one as much as you love Anna. You wanted it as much as you want her, as much as you want Jake."

"Jake," Sara repeats in a whisper. "He's truly part of our family now, Cat. He really is."

Catherine nods. "I know. Spending time with him and Anna the other day, I could see it."

"I've got two great kids," Sara says with a smile. "And, you're right. I loved that baby so much, and I wanted her so much … she had to feel that."

Catherine nods again. "I know she did."

Sara squeezes her hand. "Thanks, Catherine. For helping me to see that … and, for telling me about … what you went through."

Catherine gives her a shaky smile. "Thank you for being the first person to hear it."

* * *

_January 2004_

Avoiding Grissom had been surprisingly easy, given that they were working the same case. Sara had volunteered to work the perimeter at the scene, and had been processing with Warrick since returning to the lab.

"Hey, did you see Greg at the scene the other day?" Warrick asked.

Sara shook her head. "Why?"

"Look, don't tell anyone I told you this, but, Catherine called him to the scene."

"Yeah, Grissom said it was all hands on deck when he called me. I know Greg wants more field time, so that makes sense."

"Girl, you should have seen him. He looked like he just rolled out of bed! And, his stuff was a mess …" Warrick shook his head. "I got him straightened out, and told him to stay away from Grissom as much as possible."

"Oh, wow," Sara said, holding her poker face to the best of her ability. Greg probably _had_ just rolled out of bed, and she felt at least partially responsible for his lack of professionalism. "I guess he hasn't gotten the hang of the early rollout yet."

"Nope," Warrick agreed. "We'll have to help him."

"Yeah," Sara said.

"Listen, you won't …"

"I won't say a word," Sara promised. She suppressed a yawn. "You want some coffee? I think I'm going to grab some."

"No, I'm good."

"Okay. I'll be back in ten, all right?"

Warrick smiled. "I'll do my best to make it without you."

Sara grinned at him and went to the break room. She had just poured her coffee when Brass walked in.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Hey," Sara said, looking up at him. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you were popping cough drops at the scene the other day a mile a minute."

Understanding dawned. Time for a cover story. "I thought I was coming down with a cold," Sara said as though she couldn't believe she had avoided the virus.

"Ah," Brass said. "Yeah, I … uh …"

They both sat down at the table.

"I understand colds," Brass said, leaving no question that he wasn't talking about a cold. "You know, back in Jersey when I was getting it from both ends, from my wife and my work … things started to get heavy. I started 'medicating.'" He made a gesture to indicate drinking. "'Cure' my cold. And, ah, and God forbid that I had an early morning rollout and I had that tell-tale breath, you know what I mean? So, I would dodge my supe, and I started popping cough drops."

_Oh, God. He thinks I have a drinking problem_. "Huh," was all Sara said.

"I mean, what I'm trying to say is that … there's more problems than answers in the bottom of a bottle, believe me."

"Yeah." Sara sighed. She had to tell him something, but she couldn't implicate Greg, not when he was already so close to trouble over his appearance at the scene … "Actually, I had a couple of beers with breakfast when I got off shift. And, then I got called in."

"Just a couple?" Brass asked, studying her closely.

"Yeah," Sara said, holding his eyes.

Brass smiled at her. "I'm just looking out for you."

"I know, Jim, and I really do appreciate it," Sara said. "I promise, I'm not going to do anything to hurt myself, my career, the lab …"

He smiled again. "I know, Sara. I just … worry. I don't want to see you repeating my mistakes."

"Well, I'm fine. I promise."

He stood up and put his hand on her shoulder. "Good."

He finally left, and Sara exhaled.

Apparently, she had been avoiding Grissom too much, if Brass thought she was dodging him. As for the cough drops …

No more wine to help her fall asleep.

* * *

_January 2016_

Grissom finishes the last sentence of the article he has been laboring over and smiles. He needs to proof read it – repeatedly – but, for the moment, he feels he has earned a break.

As he pushes his chair away from his desk, his eyes fall on the picture of Sara next to his computer. He took it over a year ago, when she was watching the sunset at the beach during a family vacation. She had no idea he was photographing her; he loved the serene, contented look on her face. The picture has been on his desk since their return from the trip.

"Hey."

Grissom looks away from the picture as Sara walked into his office. "Hey," he replies. "What's up?"

She has an odd look on her face. "I just got a call from Melinda."

Concern rips through Grissom. "Is it something about Jake?"

"No," Sara says slowly, "not Jake. She …"

"What is it, honey?"

"She wants us to take another foster," Sara says in a rush. "A baby."

Grissom's eyes widen. "Sara …"

"Gil, please," Sara says. "Let's at least think about it."

"Okay," Grissom says more than a little reluctantly. "We can think about it. When do we have to tell her if we'll do it?"

"The sooner the better."

* * *

_January 2004_

"Hi, Grissom."

"Hello, Sara."

He was obviously distracted; he did little more than glance in her direction before ducking into the DNA lab.

And, that was exactly what Sara wanted.

She had begun to make more of an effort to greet Grissom on a daily basis. She didn't attempt to engage him in conversation; merely to say hello and ask how he was. It was more than she had been doing, which was to get her assignment and avoid him for the rest of the day, but it still wasn't enough to encourage a relationship beyond that of CSI / CSI Supervisor.

And, it proved that she wasn't "dodging" him.

_There you go, Brass. I told you I was fine_.

* * *

Grissom hurried down the hall, searching for Sara. He finally found her, talking to a Trace tech.

"Sara," he said. "Excuse me."

The tech nodded and disappeared back into his lab.

"Could you, uh, help me out?" Grissom asked.

"Yeah," Sara agreed. "With what?"

"A woman."

Sara looked stunned. _Maybe the avoidance worked _too_ well. _

"I need you to process a female suspect for me," Grissom clarified.

Sara barely managed to stop herself from rolling her eyes. It was so _Grissom_ of him to ask her like that.

"Sure," she agreed.

He smiled. "Thanks."

Grissom watched her go, wondering how long it had been since he had worked a case with her. He would have to rectify that in the near future.

* * *

Mindy DuPont, the suspect Grissom had asked her to process, was the most pathetic-looking woman Sara had seen in a long time. She was far too thin, her hair looked ready to fall out, and her eyes were huge and scared in her pale face. Even before she saw the track marks, Sara knew that the woman had a long history with drugs. Sara was more gentle than normal as she processed her, hoping not to cause her any pain or further humiliation.

She left the room completely convinced that Mindy could not have killed anyone. Carrying the samples she had taken, she went on a search for Grissom.

She found him in the hallway. They made eye contact as she approached.

"Samples from your suspect," she said, handing them over. "There's nothing but a few track marks. No defensive wounds, no bruising. Junkies usually bruise if you breathe on them too hard. She is a pile of twigs, very frail."

Grissom barely heard her; he probably could have told himself at least some of what she said. Sara felt exposed by his penetrating stare.

"What?" she finally asked.

"I haven't seen you for a while, have I?"

"You see me every day," Sara said simply.

She walked away, leaving Grissom alone with his samples. He watched her leave, then took the samples to the layout room.

He put them down on the table and looked down at them without really seeing them. He exhaled.

She was right. He did see her every day. But, he was right, too. He hadn't _seen_ her in ages.

Saying hello, giving and receiving assignments, briefly discussing cases … none of that counted as any kind of friendship.

He had already failed at being her boyfriend, and now he was failing at being her friend. He needed to do something to change that.

He couldn't fail her again.


	23. Faith

A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing! We hope you enjoy this installment.

I don't own CSI.

* * *

_February 2016_

"Okay, you need to stop avoiding me."

Grissom looks up at Sara and blinks. "What in the world are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the way you're avoiding being alone with me!"

"Sara, I honestly have no –"

"You know exactly what I mean!" Sara sits down across from him at the table. "It's like you won't stay in the same room as me unless one of the kids is there. I know what's going on, Gil. You're making sure I can't bring up taking the baby."

"Sara …" He sighs and runs his hands over his face. There is no point in denying her words. He has tried to keep the kids quite literally between them since her announcement of Melinda's request. "I just don't know if it's a good idea for us to take on a baby right now. Not after what just happened to _our_ baby."

Sara swallows the tears that threaten to surface. "Don't you think that this makes it the perfect time? We may have lost our little one, Gil, but that doesn't mean we should deny this other baby a home."

Grissom sighs again. "What happened to its parents?"

"They died when their house burned down."

"How did the baby make it out?"

"Firefighters entered near her room, so she was the first one they reached. The parents' room was farther back in the house."

"And, she doesn't have any other relatives who could take her?"

"Not as far as Melinda knows. She's still working on finding her family."

"So, she could still have family out there somewhere?"

"I guess so."

Grissom exhales. "So, this might just be for a little while. If Melinda finds a family member who wants the baby, we'd have to give her up."

"Right," Sara agrees a little uncertainly. "But, like I said, she's not having much luck with that, so …"

Grissom nods. "Sara, I don't want to do this without talking to the kids."

"The kids?" she repeats blankly. She feels almost overwhelmed from trying to follow his abrupt jump and trying not to feel giddy over the fact that he has all but agreed to take the baby.

"It's their home, too," Grissom says. "They have a right to be part of this decision."

"Okay," Sara agrees. "We can talk to them."

"Okay," Grissom says. "As long as the kids agree, and as long as you're willing to accept that this is likely a temporary thing … we can take the baby."

Sara frowns. "I follow you about the kids, but 'a temporary thing' … What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means, Sara, that you can't let yourself get attached to this baby the way you have Jake. You have to constantly remember that there is every chance in the world that we'll wake up one morning to find that some aunt or uncle wants to take her, and that we'll have to let them do it."

"I'm not going to fight a blood relative for the baby, Griss."

"It will be hard to give her up, Sara. I just want to make sure that you're prepared for that."

"Okay," she agrees. "I promise to give the baby over with a smile if a relative wants her. But, you have to promise to be 'Dad' for her until that happens – if it ever does."

He smiles. "Of course."

"So … we're doing this?"

Grissom nods. "We're doing this."

Grissom still has his reservations. He still isn't sure that this the right time for a baby, or the right thing for their family. He isn't sure that Sara will be strong enough to give the baby up if her family is found.

But, for all his reservations, he knows that they're doing the right thing – that he has made the right decision. The beaming smile that breaks across Sara's face for the first time in weeks is enough to tell him that.

* * *

_February 2004_

"Sara, I've got a homicide for you."

"Okay," Sara replied, stopping herself from hanging her jacket in her locker. "It must be major; we're not even really on the clock yet."

Grissom nodded. "It's the girlfriend of a basketball player who was in town with her friends for the weekend. She was found dead in her hotel suite."

"O-oh," Sara said. "Is the basketball player here, too?"

"Interestingly enough, he is."

"Hm." Sara took the assignment slip from him. "Who's coming with me?"

"Since you're already here and ready, go alone to get things started. I'll send your back-up later."

"Okay," Sara agreed, fighting to keep the smile from her face.

Being the primary on what could easily become a high-profile case was sweet, indeed.

* * *

"Hey, Brass," Sara said as she walked into the hotel suite-turned-crime scene.

"Hi, Sara," he replied. "The vic is Tara Weathers, girlfriend of a rookie NBA player. She was in town with her girlfriends for a girls' weekend. She came back to the room early tonight; said she wasn't feeling well. When the others got back, they found her like this."

Sara looked at the young woman who was sprawled across the floor, her eyes open and an expression of pain on her face. An empty wine glass was next to her.

"Any chance she had a little too much to drink and died of alcohol poisoning?"

Brass raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, thought I'd give it a try."

Brass smiled. "I'm still interviewing the friends. If you have questions for them, let me know. Otherwise … David is en route, and I'll leave you to your work."

"Hey, Brass," Sara called as he started to walk away.

He turned to face her again. "Yeah?"

"Grissom said the boyfriend is in town?"

"Yeah," Brass replied. "Amazingly enough, after she had planned her girls' weekend, he decided to go on a guys' weekend … and stay in the same hotel."

"Hm."

"Yeah. I'm going to interview him and his boys next."

"Thanks."

With a wave, he left her alone to work.

* * *

Sara was still doing her overall sketches when Catherine arrived with her kit in hand. Sara felt her heart sink as the older woman made her way toward her. _If she's here, she must be the primary. I can't believe he took my case away from me already._

"Hi," Catherine said. "Grissom said you've got a basketball player's girlfriend's homicide on your hands."

Sara swallowed. "Yeah."

Catherine nodded. "What do you need me to do?"

Sara blinked. "You …"

Catherine smiled at her bewildered expression. "You're the boss, Sara. Grissom just sent me to see if you needed help."

Relief and elation flooded through her. "Oh. Um … I've got this room pretty much under control. Could you start on the bathroom?"

"You've got it."

Sara turned back to her sketch to hide her grin as Catherine made her way to the bathroom. _Primary even though Catherine is the senior CSI _… It was going to be a very good day.

* * *

_February 2016_

"Anna, Jake, come here for a minute. We need to talk to you."

Anna and Jake abandon the video game they have been playing to follow Grissom into the kitchen. Sara is already sitting at the table; the children sit down across from her.

"What's up?" Jake asks, watching as Grissom sits down next to Sara.

"Melinda called," Grissom says. "Do you remember her?"

"No," Anna says with a slight frown.

Jake nods, feeling his entire body tense. _Is she going to take me away?_

"Melinda is a social worker," Sara reminds Anna. "She works with me sometimes, and she's the one who brought us Jake."

"Oh," Anna says. "Now I remember."

"Good," Sara says. She smiles a bit nervously. "She called us again because she wants us to take another foster child."

Jake slowly begins to relax. Sara notices the change in him and smiles, knowing what had him so scared.

"You're staying," she says with a slight nod. "She just wants to bring us someone else."

"Who?" Anna asks. "Another brother like Jake?"

"No," Grissom says, glancing at Sara. "Not like Jake. There is a very good chance that this one will only be with us for a little while."

"Why?" Jake asks. "Do his parents want him back?"

"No, her parents have died," Sara says quietly.

"Then …?"

"They're still looking for her family," Grissom explains.

"How old is she?" Jake asks.

"She?" Anna finally realizes what they've been saying. "Melinda is bringing us a sister?"

Sara nods. "This one is a baby sister."

Anna's face lights up. "Really?" she exclaims. "I'm going to get my little sister?"

Sara smiles. "I guess we don't have to worry about it upsetting her," she says.

"No," Grissom agrees. "Jake? What do you think?"

Jake shrugs slightly. Even after what Molly said about Anna being a real sister to him, he can't quite make himself believe that he should have a say in family decisions.

"You don't have any opinion at all?" Sara asks.

"It's your house," he replies.

Sara's smile falters slightly. _Two steps forward, one step back. He's still not convinced he's part of the family. _

"Well, we need to call Melinda back soon, so if this isn't something you want to do, let us know now."

"I want to!" Anna yells, bouncing in her chair. "I want to, I want to!"

"Inside voice," Grissom says.

Anna immediately stops bouncing and falls silent.

Sara looks at Grissom and then back at Anna and Jake. "I'll wait until Thursday to call Melinda. So, if in the next three days, you decide you'd rather not share the house with a baby, tell us. We'll understand."

There is no question in her mind that Anna wants a baby sister. But, it is important to Sara that Jake has a voice in this, too.

It is important to her that he feels like part of the family.

* * *

_February 2004_

"Hey, Sara, I've got your Trace results."

Sara stopped her progress down the hall to follow Hodges into the Trace Lab. "What did you find?"

"The sticky substance on your vic's wrists was duct tape residue," Hodges replied. "And, the wine glass you found had traces of both red wine and a cocktail of drugs. I sent them to Henry to pick apart."

"Awesome," Sara said, taking the sheaf of papers from him. "Thanks, Hodges."

"I live to serve."

Sara pursed her lips to hide her smile. _If only …_

Deciding to see how Henry was coming on her drug analysis, she started toward his lab. Her route took her past the break room, where she could see the back of Catherine's head. Thinking that she should share Hodges's findings with her, she went there instead.

She checked in the doorway when she realized that Catherine wasn't alone. She was sitting with Grissom – and, they were talking about Sara. Both had their backs to her, so neither knew she was in the room.

"Sara's doing a great job on the case," Catherine said.

"I knew she would," Grissom replied.

"Yeah …"

"What is it?"

"I don't know. I know she's been the primary before – even on cases I've worked with her. But … I guess I thought that something this high-profile would … rattle her. Make her … I don't know. Less sure of herself. But, that hasn't been the case at all. She's been cool as a cucumber, and the consummate professional."

"I knew she would be," Grissom said again. He exhaled slowly. "That case with the missing show girl …"

"What of it?"

"It's not that I don't trust you, Cath. You're an incredible CSI. But … sometimes, when I think about that case, I wish I had given it to Sara instead of to you."

Sara's breath caught in her throat, and her heart started to pound.

Catherine flinched. "I …"

"You did an outstanding job," Grissom said quickly. "I'm not saying that anyone could have done better – not even me."

Catherine nodded slowly. "But …?"

"I feel like I really … missed an opportunity with Sara. Nick, too. I know that they could have handled that case – and, I knew it then. They had a chance to really shine, and I took it from them, all because I was concerned about letting a more senior CSI take the case. I wanted to please the Sheriff instead of doing what was right for my team and my people." He shook his head. "I don't want to do that again."

An explosion could not have rocked Sara more. She stared at the back of Grissom's head, willing herself not to cry or laugh or run into the room and hug him. He had just given her the most amazing gift … and he would never know.

"Gil, you're the one who's always saying that this is about learning," Catherine said. She smiled. "Look, I'm not going to say you made a mistake there, but, if you think you did … the important thing is to learn from it."

"Yeah," he replied, falling silent.

Seeing her opening, Sara, praying that she looked as composed and professional as Catherine had described her, entered the room fully.

"Hi," she said, bringing both Catherine's and Grissom's heads around.

"Hey," Catherine said. "What have you got?"

"Trace results," she replied, putting the file down in front of Catherine. "Our vic was bound with duct tape and fed a cocktail of drugs and alcohol. Henry is doing drug analysis right now."

"Great," Catherine said. "Mandy is still working on the glass, but, assuming that our suspect wasn't wearing gloves, we should have a killer soon enough. If the girl was bound, there's no way she killed herself with drugged wine – accidentally or otherwise."

"Nope," Sara agreed.

"Well," Grissom said, standing up slowly, "it looks like you two have this completely under control."

"We're doing our best," Sara said.

Grissom held her eyes a bit longer than was strictly necessary. "I know you always do," he said quietly. He cleared his throat. "Let me know if you need me for anything."

Sara looked at Catherine as Grissom left the room. Catherine waved her hand in a dismissive gesture.

"He's in pensive mode," she said. "He's fine."

Sara nodded, and turned back to the file in front of them.

* * *

_February 2016_

"Hey."

Jake looks up from his homework as Sara enters his bedroom. "Hi," he replies.

"What are you studying?"

"Biology," he replies. "We have a test tomorrow."

"If you need help, Gil's great for that," Sara says. "He has quite a few degrees in various disciplines of it."

"Yeah, I know. I think I've got it."

Sara sits down on the edge of his bed. "Jake, I need to know what you're thinking about this baby idea."

Jake turns in his desk chair to face her. "Why?"

"Because, this is your home, too, and you have a right to be a part of this decision."

"Sara, I'm not trying to be rude or ungrateful, but, I really don't think this is any of my business. If you and Gil decide you want to have a baby of your own, I don't expect you to ask me about it. So, I really don't see how this is any different."

Sara is completely stunned by his bluntness – and, by how logical his reasoning is. She holds his eyes for a moment, then nods.

"Okay," she says, getting up from her perch on his bed. "Okay. I'll call Melinda, then, and tell her we'll take the baby."

Jake nods. "I'm glad," he nearly whispers.

Sara looks at him with questions in her eyes. "I thought you didn't care?"

"You could have decided either way," he says. "But … I'm glad that the baby will get the chance to be a part of this family – to know love and kindness when everything she knows is lost."

Sara blinks back tears and smiles. She crosses the room and hugs Jake's head and shoulders to her. When she speaks, her voice is just above a whisper.

"I'm glad _you_ did, too."

* * *

_February 2004_

"Hey, Sara."

Sara looked up from her locker as Grissom came into the locker room. "Hi," she replied.

"Great job with the basketball player's girlfriend."

"I'm sure the basketball player would disagree," Sara replied. She and Catherine had just watched Brass arrest him for his girlfriend's murder.

"Well, his opinion isn't the one I'm interested in," Grissom said.

Sara smiled. "I suppose that's a good thing."

Grissom nodded, looking from her to the jacket in her hands. "Are you headed out?"

Sara nodded. "Not too much overtime today. I'm trying to do better with that."

Grissom stepped closer to her and hesitated, licking his lips quickly. "Will you … come out for breakfast?"

Sara blinked. "W … With the team?"

"No. With me."

"Just us?"

"Just us," Grissom confirmed. "As … friends."

"Friends," Sara repeated.

A month ago, she wouldn't have even heard his request. A week ago, she would have refused to consider it. A day ago, she would have laughed off his efforts, thinking that he was trying too hard.

But … after what she had overheard between him and Catherine …

"Sure," she said with a smile. "Let's go."

Grissom's smile at her words melted her heart.


	24. Building

A/N: Thanks for reading, reviewing and being patient! We hope you enjoy this update!

Some inspiration and dialogue are taken from episode 419, "Bad Words."

* * *

_February 2004_

Sara felt undeniably nervous as she walked out of the lab with Grissom. She kept glancing at him as though to make sure he was still there next to her. He finally caught her looking at him and frowned slightly.

"What?"

"Nothing," she said. "I just … Where are we going? Frank's?"

Grissom shook his head. "There's a new diner around the corner I wanted to try. Are you up for it?"

"Sure."

It was his turn to watch her for a moment.

Sara raised an eyebrow. "What?" she asked with a teasing note to her voice.

He smiled shyly. "I'm glad we're doing this," he said.

Sara returned his smile with one of her own. "I am, too."

* * *

_February 2016_

"Hello?"

"Sara, hi. It's Melinda."

"Hi, Melinda" Sara replies. "What's up?"

"I just wanted to reconfirm everything for bringing you the baby," Melinda says. "Can we bring her to you on Thursday?"

"Thursday," Sara repeats, glancing at the calendar on her refrigerator. "Yeah, Thursday's great. Sometime early afternoon, maybe?"

"I was thinking around one?"

"Perfect."

"Excellent," Melinda says, her voice slightly muffled as though she is holding the phone between her cheek and shoulder to free her hands to make a note of the time. "I'll let Jean know, and either she or I will bring Laura to you around one on Thursday."

"Laura?" Sara repeats.

"Yes," Melinda says. "The baby. Laura."

"Her – her name is Laura?"

"Yes," Melinda says again. "I thought I had told you that."

"No." Although Melinda can't see it, Sara's eyes are open wide. "No, you didn't."

"Oh. Well. Her name is Laura, and she'll be all yours on Thursday."

"Okay," Sara says. "Great. I'll see you Thursday."

"Or you'll see Jean," Melinda confirms. "Thanks again for doing this, Sara."

"No problem."

Melinda laughs. "I have a feeling it's considerably more trouble than you're willing to say, but thanks for letting me think that it's not a problem."

Sara smiles a bittersweet smile. "Every baby deserves a good home."

"Yes," Melinda agrees. "I've got to run, Sara, but I'll see you soon."

"Okay," Sara says. "Bye."

When Grissom walks into the kitchen five minutes later, she's still looking at the cell phone that is cradled in her hand. He gives her a bemused look as he heads to the fridge for an apple.

"You're looking very teenage girl," he says.

"What?" Sara asks, looking up at him.

He gestures to her position with the phone in her hand. "Thinking that it will ring if you stare at it long enough?"

Sara smiles slightly. "No." She puts the phone down. "I was just talking to Melinda."

"About the baby?"

"About _Laura_."

Grissom frowns and sits down across from her. "Your mother?"

Sara shakes her head. "The baby's name is Laura, Gil."

He nods slowly. "Does this change things?"

"No-o," Sara says, then changes her mind. "Yes. It makes it more …" She shakes her head slowly. "_More_."

The emotions in her eyes are so jumbled and convoluted that Grissom doesn't know where one ends and the next begins. He takes her hand and squeezes it.

"I'm glad we're doing this."

She looks at him with over-bright eyes. "I am, too."

* * *

_February 2004_

Sara looked around in surprise as she and Grissom were seated at a booth in the restaurant he had selected for them. He appeared completely unaffected as he opened his menu.

"I thought you said this was a _diner_," she said pointedly.

"That's what it's called," he said, his face the picture of innocence as he held up his menu so she could read the name.

Sara pursed her lips to hide her smile. She wasn't sure if he had truly believed that they were going to a diner or if he was abusing the deceptive name of "Corner Diner" to cover for the fact that he had wanted to take her somewhere nice. She decided that it must be the former. To assume that he had known and did want to take her somewhere nice implied a date, and she knew that she wasn't quite ready to believe that he had anything like that in mind when it came to the two of them. It would be too unbearable to be disappointed again.

"Well, it's a very nice restaurant," she said, opening her menu. _If it were little nicer, we'd be under-dressed_, she added mentally.

Grissom gave her a slight smile without really looking away from his menu. "I've heard they have excellent vegetarian dishes."

The remark _almost_ sounded off-hand, but it brought Sara's eyes up to his face. He was hiding behind his menu again, so she couldn't see his eyes – not that she would necessarily be able to read anything there even if she could look into them. He was a master at hiding his emotions. _But … not always from me …_

Realizing that the lag-time in her response was bordering on rudeness, she swallowed her swirling emotions.

"Great," she managed to say.

He finally lowered the menu to look into her eyes and smile at her. "Any idea what you'd like to try?"

_Well, _there's_ a loaded question …_ "Not yet."

He held his smile and gave her a nearly imperceptible wink. "Keep thinking about it. We've got plenty of time."

Sara drew a deep breath, realizing that they had reached a turning point in the conversation. She could take this one of two ways, with very different intentions and outcomes. She could respond to his slight innuendo and – hopefully – they could share a laugh. Or, she could ignore it, and the emotionally charged, halting conversation would be very likely to continue.

She exhaled slowly and made her decision.

"Why, Dr. Grissom, I do believe you're trying to proposition me," she said lightly, arching an eyebrow, but unable to keep the mirth from her eyes.

Feeling the shift in her mood, Grissom's smile widened. "Well, you can't blame an old man for trying."

Sara pulled her menu up, but not before he saw her grin. "I don't know about an _old_ man … but, _you_ may not have to try all that hard."

The word was out before she could realize the double entendre it carried. Grissom, of course, caught it immediately.

"Oh, I don't know about that, my dear," he said. "I'd be willing to try very … _hard_."

Sara burst into laughter. "God, Griss, I forgot how filthy your mind can be."

"_My_ mind? You started this!"

"I did not! You did!"

"Good morning," a third voice said as their waitress joined them. "I'm Patty, and I'll be taking care of you today. What can I get you to drink?"

"Coffee," Grissom said.

"Orange juice," Sara said.

She smiled as she turned to get their drinks. "Coming right up."

Sara caught Grissom's eye, and, as Patty walked away, they both burst into laughter again.

* * *

_February 2016_

"Hello?"

"Hi, Mom."

"Sara!" Laura Sidle's smile carries across the miles to her daughter. "How are you, sweetie?"

Sara draws a deep breath. "Fine," she says.

"_Really_ fine, or _Sara_ fine?"

Sara chuckles, avoiding the question. "I have some news."

"Okay, let's hear it."

"We're taking in another foster child. A baby."

"Oh, Sara. That's so sweet of you. Is the baby … all right?"

"She's fine, physically. Her parents died in a fire a few weeks ago."

Laura sighs. "That's horrible."

"I know. But, she's okay."

"How old is she?"

"Eight months."

"So tiny," Laura says. "What's her name?"

Sara swallows. "Laura."

Laura can't help but chuckle. "Well, I suppose I finally have a grandchild named after me, then."

Sara is surprised by her nonchalant attitude about it. She was rocked to her core when Melinda told her. Why isn't her mother more … shaken?

"Sara? Are you there?"

"Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking … Gil keeps telling me that we have to be careful not to get too attached. They're still trying to track down family for this one, so …"

"Well, you'll take good care of her for them," Laura says. "What does Anna think of all this?"

"She's beyond excited," Sara says with a smile. "She can't wait to be a big sister."

"And, Jake?"

"Going with it," Sara says.

"Hm."

"I didn't exactly expect him to get excited," Sara says. "He's got enough to deal with on his own without worrying about a baby. I just hope I'm not throwing too much at him."

"I'm sure you're not."

Sara rolls her eyes at her mother's continual positive reinforcement. "How would you know?"

"Because, that's who you are," Laura says as though it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Whether you really are fine, or you're just saying it to make me happy, I know you're doing what's right. You always do."

"Mom, come on –"

"Sara, I mean it," Laura interrupts. "Never in my life have I known anyone who has your ability to see what needs to be done and to make it happen. Never have I known anyone who could live her life so beautifully, even after …" She trails off and takes a deep breath. "You'll do the right thing, Sara. You always do."

Sara swallows back sudden tears. "Thanks, Mom."

* * *

_February 2004_

Grissom walked Sara to her car and watched as it lit up to indicate that she had unlocked the doors. He opened her door for her, but she didn't immediately climb into the car.

"This was … fun," she said at last. "Really fun. I think I forgot …"

"How much fun we can have together?" Grissom finished for her.

"Yeah," Sara said with a slightly apologetic smile.

"I think I did, too," he confessed. "But … remembering is nice, isn't it?"

Sara nodded.

"Well. I'll see you tonight, then."

"See you tonight," Sara echoed.

She climbed into her car and started the engine, buckling her seatbelt before turning to wave at Grissom. He smiled and waved back, watching as she backed out of her parking space and pulled away from him.

The symbolism was not lost on him. In that moment, he vowed to make sure that she would never pull away from him again.

* * *

Sara loved her job. Ever since she had solved her first case as a CSI 1 in San Francisco, she had been head-over-heels in love with her career. She walked into the lab – whether San Francisco or Las Vegas – eager to see what the new shift would bring. She was excited by the puzzles to solve, enthralled by the details she could piece together and exhilarated by finding justice for those who had been wronged.

The only thing that had made her reluctant to go to work, in recent days, had been Grissom. Their strained and crumbling relationship had weighed on her, and made spending extra time with him at work mentally and emotionally draining.

Then, with one shared meal, that changed.

Sara knew that they weren't back to the way they were before. She knew that they didn't have a relationship remotely close to what she, in her most secret, hidden desires, wanted to have with him.

But, she also could recognize what they did have: a reemerging friendship. They had started as friends. They were good at being friends.

She wanted to be his friend again.

And, so, it was with a cheerful smile and almost bubbly spirit that she walked into the lab for her next shift. She was met in the locker room by Grissom himself.

"Hey," he said with a smile that matched hers. "Welcome back."

"Thanks." She held his eyes a bit longer than she should have, but, he wasn't exactly looking away, either. "What am I doing tonight?"

"You're with me," he said. "Dead body in a hotel lobby restroom."

"Sounds like fun."

He winked at her. "I'll meet you in the car."

Grissom walked away, and Sara turned to her locker. She caught her reflection in the mirror that hung there, and almost laughed. The goofy grin plastered across her face was a bit much.

"You're a professional, Sara," she told her reflection. "Act like it."

Rearranging her face into a more work-appropriate expression, she grabbed what she needed and headed out to meet Grissom.

* * *

Brass met them at the scene and led Grissom and Sara to the restroom, where the body of an obese man was lying on its side. Brass explained that the cleaning crew had found him, and handed Sara the contents of his pockets – a notebook full of random letter and number combinations.

"Looks like some kind of code," she said, putting on gloves so she could accept the notebook. She felt a small thrill at the thought of cracking the code.

"Seven thirty-five?" Grissom asked, reading the numbers printed on the victim's t-shirt.

"His goal weight?" Brass suggested.

Grissom and Sara both give him disapproving looks. Brass smiled in a not remotely apologetic way, and mumbled something about housekeeping before he left the room.

Without exchanging a word, Grissom and Sara immediately got to work. Grissom began photographing the body, while Sara began collecting evidence from the restroom. They talked about their findings as they worked in perfect tandem. Grissom provided a swab before Sara asked for it; she handed him a bindle before he could reach for one.

After so many years and so many cases together, they had become a perfectly-synched team. It was such a fact of their lives that neither of them even noticed it.

And, yet …

Both drew comfort from it.

* * *

"I just talked to Albert."

Sara looked up from the DNA evidence she was logging as Grissom walked into the lab. "You went to autopsy without me?"

He shook his head. "He came to me."

Sara frowned. "Odd."

"As is this case." He put six evidence bags holding individual letter tiles on the table in front of her. "He found these inside the vic."

Sara's frown deepened. "Pica?" she suggested.

"No idea as of now. But, the letter S is what killed him – Albert found it in his trachea."

Sara picked up the bag holding the S tile and held it in front of her face. "I don't suppose Brass can read it its rights."

Grissom pursed his lips to hide his smile. "No."

"All right, then," Sara said. "I guess we'll have to keep working."

* * *

_February 2016_

Grissom comes home from work to find the house quiet. While not necessarily unusual – the children are still at school – he is surprised to find that Sara is nowhere in sight. Thinking that she must still be asleep, he goes upstairs to wake her so she can get ready for the children's homecoming.

He is walking toward their bedroom when he spots movement in what is soon to be the baby's room. He stops and slowly steps into the doorframe.

Sara is in the room, sitting in the rocking chair, rocking back and forth. She is looking out the window, but he has a feeling she isn't really seeing anything.

"Honey?" he says softly, stepping fully into the room.

Despite his care not to alarm her, Sara starts and turns to him with wide eyes. She relaxes almost immediately upon recognizing him.

"Hi," she says. She looks around the room. "I'm just trying to get a feel for it."

Grissom nods slowly, never taking his eyes from hers. "Sara … are you absolutely sure about this? They're not bringing us the baby for a couple days. There's still time …"

"No, Gil, I'm sure," she says firmly. "This is the right thing to do. It's the right thing for Laura, and it's the right thing for our family."

"You just seem a little … emotional about it."

She gives him a wobbly smile. "I suppose I am emotional about it. Part of it is learning that her name is Laura. It makes her seem more connected to our family. More like she's already one of us." She exhales. "And, that scares me. I keep thinking about what you said … about not getting attached, about her maybe having relatives out there … And, feeling this connection with her before I even meet her scares the hell out of me." She shook her head. "But, that somehow makes it even more right."

Grissom nods slowly, working very hard at not reminding her, yet again, that she has to fight that attachment. "And, the other part?" he asks instead.

Sara draws a deep breath. "You were right, you know. It probably is too soon for us to do this. We did just lose our baby."

Grissom nods, tension creasing his brow.

"But … Laura just lost her parents. If we've lost a baby, and she's lost parents … doesn't it seem like we should be able to make each other whole again?"

Grissom kneels down in front of her and grabs her hands. "I hope so, Sara. I really, really hope so."

She smiles and squeezes his hands as she blinks back tears.

* * *

_February 2004_

"Hey," Sara said as she walked into the layout room. "DNA came back. Blood from the bathroom floor is a match to the vic; blood from the bathroom mirror is _not_."

Grissom looked up from the letter tiles he had been arranging and rearranging on the table. "That's interesting."

"Hm." Sara nodded her agreement, then cocked her head to see what he was working on. "What are you doing?" she asked, looking at the paper full of letter combinations he was writing on.

"Anagrams," he replied.

"You think the letters might be a message from the killer?" Sara asked.

Grissom shrugged, continuing to write his most recent letter combination.

"Six letters … What is that?" Sara asked before answering her own question, "That's seven hundred twenty possible combinations, not all of them words, of course …"

She trailed off as she skimmed the combinations he had already listed. Seeing one possible word that was conspicuously absent from the list, she began rearranging the bagged tiles.

"You, uh, missed one," she said with a slight teasing note to her voice.

Grissom looked from his notebook to the word she had created: VIXENS. He looked up at her, trying very hard to look irritated. Her smile, so full of promise, made it difficult to maintain his gruff exterior.

Their eye contact stretched on, and both of them felt the shifting current between them. One of them had to say something, do something –

"Hey," Brass said as he walked into the room. "We got an ID off the DB's prints. His name's Adam Brenner."

"That guy has a record?" Sara asked in disbelief.

Grissom remained silent, cursing Brass in his head. _What incredible timing, Jim. _

"Well, sort of," Brass said in answer to Sara's question. "He's a civil servant; he's a postal worker from Orlando."

"Do we know why he came to Vegas?" Grissom asked, regaining his professionalism.

Brass smiled. "Oh, you're going to love this."

Grissom raised his eyebrows.

"He was here for a Logos tournament."

"Logos?" Sara repeated. "What's that?"

"It's a word game, like Scrabble." Brass grinned as both their faces lit up. "I knew you'd love it. If I could have picked two CSIs for this one, it would have been you two."

Grissom looked back at the letter tiles on the table in front of him. "Like Scrabble …" he repeated.

"Well," Sara said, "I think we know where our vic found his snack."

"Yeah," Grissom agreed. "Now we just need to find out if he found it on his own, or if he needed a little help."

* * *

"Okay," Brass said as they walked back to the car with evidence bags full of DNA swabs from Adam's Logos competitors. "That was a complete _geek_ show."

Grissom and Sara exchanged a look.

"Hey, I don't mean to offend," Brass said. "It's just nice, every once in a while, to be reminded that our lab isn't populated with the biggest geeks in the United States."

"Brass, I have a Masters in physics," Sara said. "If you thought the Logos crowd was bad, I can tell you stories of geekiness that would make your skin crawl."

"I thought it was fun," Grissom said slightly defensively. "I love word games."

"Hey, Gil, I found you a friend in there," Brass said with a sudden flash of memory. "Guy told me he does the Sunday New York Times crossword in pen." He chuckled. "He said I wouldn't make it past Tuesday."

"Well," Grissom said, opening the driver's side door, "you wouldn't."

He climbed behind the wheel, giving Brass a chance to exchange a look with Sara. Biting her cheeks to keep from laughing, she climbed into the backseat, leaving Brass alone in the front with Grissom.

* * *

"Hey," Sara said, walking into Grissom's office.

"Hey," he said, looking up at her. "Where have you been hiding?"

"Come on," she said, inclining her head toward the doorway, "I want to show you."

Grissom got up and followed Sara to the layout room, where she had put the notebook Brass had found in Adam Brenner's pocket the night of his death under the ELMO. Looking at the enlarged notebook on the screen, Grissom took a seat at the table. Sara sat down across from him, eager to show off the fruits of her hours of labor.

"Adam Brenner was a meticulous note-taker," she began, flipping through his notebook. "He documented every turn of every game he ever played."

"How many words use the letters we found in Adam's body?" Grissom asked.

"None, actually," Sara said. "At least, none with that _exact_ combination. But, here's the weird part: One of the games didn't add up." She flipped to the appropriate page in Adam's notebook and pulled forward a photo of one of the competitors she had met during their DNA collection visit. "When Adam played Craig, he had sixty points written down that I couldn't account for. And, on that same page of his notebook, I noticed that something had been erased. So, I ran it through ESDA. Adam played _exvin_. Everything but the S, sixty points."

"What's an exvin?" Grissom asked, looking at her with a slight frown.

"You know, I was kinda hoping you'd know. It's not in the OED."

Grissom stared at the word, almost hurt that it had bested both of them. _Maybe it's not English …_

Shrugging it off with some difficulty, he held up the rulebook he had collected. "Well, according to the rules, if you play a bluff and your opponent challenges, you have to take the tiles back, you lose a turn and a minute off your game clock. No points."

"Right," Sara said. "And, later in that same game, Craig played an X. _Loxodrome_. Now, there's only one X per game. How did he get it?"

Grissom frowned. "I think we may need to see his game pieces."

Sara smiled. "I thought you might say that."

He smiled as they stood up. "Good work, Sara."

She flushed slightly. "Thanks."

* * *

Craig had killed Adam by making him literally eat his invented word – exvin – in what he described as "karmic retribution." Grissom and Sara left him with Brass, who read him his rights.

"Doesn't he understand that the point of karmic retribution is that the _universe_ gets back at you?" Sara asked as they rode the elevator to the hotel lobby.

"Sometimes, people can get a little too absorbed in themselves," Grissom said. "They forget that there is a universe at all."

Sara glanced at him. "That's what makes them geeks, right?"

Grissom smiled. "Maybe in the eyes of some parts of society."

"How do you see them?"

"The Logos people in general?"

Sara nodded.

"Invested in their game," he replied.

Sara smiled. "Sounds like you."

"Craig just took it too far."

"Yeah," Sara agreed. "He definitely did."

"We all need to remember what's real in life – what's important."

Sara's eyes snapped back to his face. He held her gaze for a moment, then glanced at his watch.

"Shift will be over by the time we get back to the lab," he said. "Do you … want to go out for coffee on the way?"

Sara smiled. "Yeah," she said. "Sounds like fun."

* * *

_February 2016_

Shortly before one o'clock, a car pulls into the driveway. Sara jumps up from her spot on the couch and goes to the window.

"It's Melinda," she says unnecessarily.

Grissom, who abandoned his office hours to be with her for this moment, joins her and puts his hands on her shoulders, squeezing them gently. Sara leans back against him, and he brings his arms around her in an embrace.

They watch as Melinda takes the baby seat from the back of the car and carries it to their front door. She rings the bell, and Grissom and Sara separate to let her in.

"Hi," she says cheerfully as Grissom opens the door for her. "Ready for another one?"

"I don't think I have a choice at this point," he says, reaching out for the handle of the baby carrier.

Melinda hands it over and follows him into the house. He sets the carrier down on the coffee table, just as he did with Anna's when she was a baby. Melinda steps in, unfastening the series of straps that are keeping Laura secure.

For her part, Laura looks around with big, curious eyes. Sara watches her, feeling the full force of her many, varied emotions shooting through her.

"Okay," Melinda says, lifting the baby from her carrier. "This is your new home, Laura."

Sara blinks back tears at the words.

"Here she is," Melinda says, handing the baby over to Sara.

Sara takes Laura in her arms and looks into her deep, brown eyes. She smiles at her. "Hello, baby girl," she says, using the nickname that Anna has long-since outgrown.

To her delight, Laura smiles back at her.

In that moment, all her promises to Grissom fly out the window. Without meaning to, Sara falls in love with her new foster daughter.


	25. Viewpoints

A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing! We hope you enjoy the new character we're bringing into the fold…

We don't own CSI. Minimal inspiration is taken from episode 420, "Dead Ringer."

* * *

_February 2004_

"Hey, have you guys seen this?"

Sara, Grissom and Catherine looked up from their evidence as Nick came into the layout room with Warrick on his heels.

"Is it case-related?" Grissom asked.

Nick glanced at Warrick, then flashed Grissom a winning smile. "Do you want the truth or what you want to hear?"

"Out with it," Catherine said. "What's got you two so excited?"

Warrick held up a flyer. "The Law Enforcement Desert Relay."

"It's in Vegas this year!" Nick said.

"One hundred twenty miles of relay race," Warrick said. "We want to get a CSI team together."

"We already talked to Ecklie," Nick said. "He said it's fine with him as long as we don't make him participate."

Catherine grinned. "That sounds like Conrad."

"So, what do you think?" Warrick asked. "Are you guys in?"

"Absolutely," Sara said. "Sounds like fun."

"Sure, I'll do it," Catherine said, glancing at Sara. "Want to train together?"

Not having run more than a mile at a time since grad school, Sara nodded. "Yeah."

"Griss?" Warrick asked. "Are you in, man?"

Grissom smiled slightly. "No."

"Aw, come on, Grissom!" Catherine teased. "Don't be an old lady about it!"

Grissom smiled again, but shook his head. "I'll leave the running to the young. You guys have fun with it."

Sara looked at him, waiting for him to look at her. When he finally did, he raised his eyebrows in a silent question.

"You're sure?" she asked quietly.

For the first time since Nick and Warrick had proposed the idea, Grissom thought, for just a moment, that he might like to join the relay. But, common sense prevailed. He was out of shape, his knees were just this side of shot and he knew there was no way he would be able to keep up with a team full of so many younger CSIs. He sighed.

"I'm sure."

Sara nodded silently, but something in her eyes said that the conversation wasn't quite over.

* * *

_March 2016_

"Sara. Sara, wake up."

Sara drags her sleepy eyes open to see Grissom hovering over her, holding Laura on his hip. "Hi," she mumbles.

"I've got to leave," he says. "I've got to pick up Mom at the airport. You need to take care of Laura."

Sara nods, still fighting sleep. "Just put her on the bed."

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Sara, I need you to be awake right now."

Sara chuckles. "I'm awake." She sits up and smiles at Grissom. "Give her to me."

Grissom puts Laura down on the bed next to Sara. She smiles up at both of them and begins crawling over the blankets toward Sara's legs. Sara giggles.

"We'll be fine," she says. "Tell your mother hello for me. And, don't forget to invite her to dinner tomorrow."

He smiles. "I will. I'm going to spend some time with her after I pick her up, so I'll be gone a while."

Sara nods. Betty has been gone for several months, teaching two classes at the University of Central Florida; Sara did not expect this to be a quick run to the airport. "I'll get the kids. Don't worry about us."

Grissom leans down to kiss her goodbye. "I'll see you tonight."

Sara smiles and kisses him again. "Bye."

Grissom runs his hand over Laura's head. "Goodbye to you, too, sweetie." He straightens up. "You're sure you're not too tired for this?"

Sara smiles. "What if I am? You still have to leave."

"But, I could call Lindsey to stay with Laura so you can sleep longer."

Sara waves her hand dismissively. "I'm fine! Go! You're going to make yourself late if you don't stop standing around, worrying about me!"

Grissom smiles. He has spent so many years worrying about her that it has become second nature. "Okay. I'll see you later."

Blowing them both one last kiss, he leaves the room. Sara looks at the baby as they hear the front door close behind her departing husband.

"Well, kiddo, I guess it's just you and me now." She climbs out of bed and lifts the baby into her arms. "Let's go play."

* * *

"Mom!" Grissom waves his hand frantically as he tries to get closer to his mother through the throng of people at McCarran.

Betty catches sight of him and her face lights up with a smile. They meet halfway, and she hugs him tightly. When she pulls back her hands start to fly. Grissom laughs and catches them in both of his, leaning down to kiss her cheek.

"I love you," he says, releasing her hands to sign the spontaneous expression. "And, I missed you."

She smiles. "_How do you think I felt while you were traveling around the world, leaving your poor wife all alone in Las Vegas_?"

"I thought this was about _you_ missing me, not Sara."

"_We were both here while you were off globe-trotting_."

Grissom rolls his eyes. His "globe-trotting" had stopped the moment Sara told him she was pregnant. "I've been home for six years, Mom. Isn't that good enough?"

She smiles and pats his cheek. "_I suppose_."

"Come on. Let's get your luggage."

She loops her arm through his as he leads her to the luggage carousel. Grissom smiles down at her, and she pats his arm.

They are both glad she is home.

* * *

_March 2004_

"Hey."

Grissom looked up to see Sara leaning against his office doorframe, wearing extremely tight-fitting workout clothes. He smiled, hoping that he wasn't being overly obvious as he stared at her over his glasses.

"Going out for a run?" he asked, trying to keep his tone light.

Sara nodded. "Catherine and I are going for three miles today."

"Have fun."

Sara took a step into his office. "Would you like to join us?"

He smiled and shook his head. "No."

"Are you sure?"

He sighed and took his glasses off, setting them down on his desk. "I'm not a runner, Sara. I never have been. I'm sorry."

She nodded. "Okay. If you change your mind about the relay –"

"Sara –"

"- You could always drive a follow car," she finished. "I'll see you later."

She had to admit, it was a bit cowardly, leaving before he could turn her down. But, she just didn't think that she could handle more rejection from him – not when their friendship was so new, and so much fun. She'd leave him alone, and let him find her later to tell her _no_.

It was just easier that way.

* * *

_March 2016_

After making sure she isn't too tired after her flight, Grissom takes Betty to her favorite coffee shop to catch up. She smiles at him as she stirs her coffee.

"How was Orlando?" he asks, signing along with his verbal question. Although there was a time when signing alone was the only method of communication between him and his mother, Grissom has spent years simultaneously speaking and signing to make sure that she and Sara are both included in every conversation. Even though Sara and Anna have become so fluent in sign language that the verbalization is no longer needed, he still does it out of habit.

"_Beautiful_!" Betty's face lights up. "_You should take Anna there. She would love it_."

"She wants to go," Grissom affirms. "Disney."

Betty nods knowingly. "_When do you leave_?"

"We want to wait until she's old enough to remember it."

Betty smiles and nods again.

"How were your classes?"

Betty shrugs. "_Not as beautiful as the countryside_."

Grissom laughs. "Too long out of the classroom?" he suggested.

Betty nods. "_I like working in administration much better_." She takes a sip of her coffee. "_But, what about you? How have things been here? How's my Anna_?"

Grissom smiles. "Fine," he says. "She still loves school."

"_Good_." Betty smiles. "_She's going to be a PhD, just like her daddy_."

Grissom grins. "If that's what she wants."

"_And, Sara_?"

"She's fine," Grissom says. "Busy as always."

"_Do you still have the boy_?"

Grissom mentally cringed at her treatment of Jake, but kept his face impassive. Betty did not approve of their decision to take in Jake when they had, but she had left almost immediately to take the visiting professor position in Orlando; she had not even had a chance to meet him before departing.

"Yes," he says. "Jake is still with us."

Betty shakes her head, and Grissom steels himself for what he has to tell her.

"We actually just took in another foster child," he says, forcing himself to go slowly, to sign slowly, so that meaning is not lost. "A little girl. Laura. She's almost nine months old."

"_Another one_!" Betty's shock and outrage are shouted by the look on her face. "_Gil, what are you and Sara thinking_?"

Grissom frowns, a bit surprised by the violence of her response. "She's just a baby, Mom, and she needs a home."

Betty shakes her head. "_Sara and her inability to overlook a stray_ …"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Grissom unintentionally raises his voice; other diners sitting near them turn to look at him.

"_It means that her heart bleeds for everyone but her family_," Betty explains. "_She's like a little girl who wants to take care of every stray cat in the neighborhood, but can't remember to feed her own_."

Grissom knows that he won't speak without yelling, and so abandons verbalizing. "_Sara is one of the most loving, kind people I've ever had the privilege to know. NO ONE could be a better mother than she is. And, if she wants to share that maternal love with children who don't have mothers of their own, I support her._"

"_Oh, Gil. While she's busy mothering the world, who's mothering Anna_?"

Grissom frowns. "_What_?"

"_Have either of you stopped to consider the impact these foster children are having on Anna_?"

"_Of course. We talked a lot about that before we brought Jake home. I was worried about what kind of influence he would have on her, but it's been utterly positive on both sides. They treat each other like siblings. They're very sweet together. And, they both love Laura, too_."

"_That's not what I meant_."

"_Then, I have no idea what you mean_."

Betty looks irritated that she has to spell this out for him. "_Aren't you afraid that Anna will get … lost in the shuffle? That she'll resent all these other children taking her parents' attention? That she'll be forgotten?_"

Grissom frowns. "_Anna is hardly forgotten, Mom. And, she has her mother's big heart. She loves having foster siblings_."

She pats his hand in a placating gesture and tries to smile, but the troubled look doesn't leave her eyes. "_Okay, then_."

"You can see her for yourself tomorrow at dinner," he says, finally feeling confident to speak at a normal level again.

She smiles. "_I'm glad. I've missed her_."

* * *

_March 2004_

"How was the run?"

Sara nearly jumped out of her skin at the words. She had not heard Grissom walk into the locker room, where she is finally getting her things together to leave. After running three miles with Catherine, the idea of driving home before taking a shower had been stomach-turning. As much as she disliked showering at the lab, it had felt wonderful to wash away the dirt, sweat and pain of their long run.

"Good," she finally answered. "We made our three miles."

"Is Catherine still here?"

Sara shook her head. "She had to go straight home to take Lindsey to school. I wasn't about to leave without a shower, so I stayed longer." She raised an eyebrow. "What are you still doing here?"

"I had some paperwork to finish up."

Sara smiled. "As always."

Grissom nodded his agreement. "Want to grab breakfast? Or do you need to get home?"

"No, I don't need to go home right now," Sara said, her smile widening. "Breakfast sounds great."

Grissom smiled back. "Good."

* * *

_March 2016_

Grissom arrives home to a family scene that makes him smile. Sara is making dinner, Jake is struggling through his English homework, and Anna is reading an ABC book to Laura in an attempt to teach her the alphabet. _My mother is insane. We're all fine._

"Hey," Sara says in surprise, noticing him entering the kitchen. "Where did you come from?"

He smiles and crosses to kiss her. "Mom and I got done with our coffee a little sooner than expected."

Sara frowns at the look in his eyes, but he shakes his head and signs _later_. She nods slowly.

"Daddy!" Anna squeals as she runs into the room.

"Hey, Anna Banana," he says, swinging her up into his arms. "Did you have a good day at school?"

"Yes," she says. "I'm teaching Laura to read right now!"

He smiles. "What a good big sister."

"So good that she left her alone," Sara says, wiping her hands on a dish towel. She leaves the kitchen to rescue the baby who has been abandoned in the living room.

"Guess who's coming for dinner tomorrow?" Grissom says, adjusting Anna in his arms.

"Um … Uncle Jim."

Grissom shakes his head. "No."

"Aunt Catherine?"

"No. Jake, take a guess."

Jake, seated at the table, looks up from reading _The Odyssey_. He mentally runs through the Grissoms' friends that he has met. "Nick?" he asks almost hopefully, going for his favorite.

"No," Grissom says. He looks back at Anna with twinkling eyes. "Nana is coming."

"Yay!" Anna exclaims. "Nana has been gone _forever_!"

Sara walks into the room with Laura on her hip and looks at Jake, who is not joining in Anna's excitement.

"What's up?" she asks.

Jake nods toward Grissom and Anna. "He just told us about the dinner company for tomorrow."

"Oh. Yeah, Betty's coming over."

Jake nods.

"Is that okay with you?" Sara asks.

Jake shrugs.

Sara smiles and sits down across from him. "Listen," she says, arranging Laura in her lap, "there is _no one_ who knows better than I do how hard it can be to get to know Betty. She's a tough nut to crack. But, I think we all are in our own way. And, as abrasive as she can seem … she's Gil's mother and Anna's grandmother, and for that, if for nothing else, I love her." She shrugs. "I'm not asking you to do the same. Just … be polite, okay?"

He nods. "I'm not sure how I can be polite _or_ rude when I can't even talk to her."

"Ah. Good point." She turns to Anna, who is still talking Grissom's ear off with her plans for everything she wants to tell and show Betty. "Anna, do me a favor."

"Okay," she agrees, sliding out of Grissom's arms and scurrying to her mother.

"Let Jake finish his homework, then teach him some sign language so he can talk to Nana tomorrow."

She grins. "Okay."

* * *

_March 2004_

"So, how's your training going?"

"Like I said, I'm up to three miles," Sara replied, pleased that Grissom was interested. She poured syrup over her waffles. "Next week, we're going to start training with Nick, Warrick and Greg. That should make things interesting."

Grissom smiled. "I have a feeling the three of them will have a hard time keeping up with you and Catherine."

Sara returned his smile. "Nick and Warrick have gotten twenty CSIs to sign up for our team. That's something, huh?"

"Impressive," Grissom said. He took a bite of his toast. After chewing it and swallowing, he spoke again. "I signed up to drive a follow car."

Sara's eyes widened. "You did?"

He laughed. "Don't act so surprised! It was your suggestion."

"Yeah, but I didn't necessarily think you'd take it."

"Well …" He paused. "The team is important, and this race is important, and … I didn't want to miss out." A bittersweet smile crossed his face. "I've missed a lot of opportunities. I don't want to let another one pass me by."

Sara smiled, suddenly feeling very tingly. She had a feeling they weren't just talking about the race. "I'm glad."

* * *

_March 2016_

"So," Sara says, "is it _later_ now?"

Grissom sighs and nods. The children are all in bed; he and Sara are sitting on the couch together, trying to find something to watch on television. It is the perfect moment.

"What's bothering you?" Sara asks.

"I told Mom about Laura."

"Oh," Sara says. "I'm guessing she didn't take it well."

He shakes his head. "No."

"She wasn't thrilled about Jake, either."

"She still isn't."

"You know, for someone who was so excited to be a grandmother, you'd think she'd be pleased about us bringing more children into the family."

"She's worried about Anna."

Sara rolls her eyes. "This again? Okay, I can see where you were coming from before we brought Jake home. He's a teenager, he could have been a hardened criminal, and he could have been a bad influence on Anna. But, Laura isn't even a year old. What can she _possibly_ do to corrupt Anna's innocence?"

"That's what I thought she meant, too. But, that's not what she's getting at."

Sara frowns. "What has her so upset, then?"

"She thinks Anna is being adversely affected by having all these foster children parading through the house."

"They're hardly _parading_," Sara says. "Jake has been here for months, and Laura …" She trails off, not daring to bring up the possibility that both of them could become permanent members of the family. She just can't bear to hear him say _no_. Not yet.

"Look, Sara, she thinks that we're essentially taking in every stray we can find." Grissom says the words in a rush, hoping to take away some of their venom.

It doesn't work. Sara looks stung and hurt by his words. "Is that what _you_ think?" she asks.

"If that was what I thought, I would have refused to let either of them come into our home," he says firmly. "But …"

"But, what?"

"The more I think about it … Sara, I keep thinking of Lionel Dell."

Sara's eyes widen. "What about him?"

"Do you remember when you interrogated him?"

She nods, shivering slightly. "I don't think I'll ever forget it."

"Do you remember what you did after? What _we_ did?"

She nods again. "We watched that video footage from his birthday party – tried to identify all his foster siblings." She shivers again. "We were looking for Natalie."

"When we did that, you told me that Lionel could only remember some of their names."

"Yeah." She shakes her head. "They weren't foster _siblings_ to him. They were just fosters that his parents took in – that, to him, they loved more than him."

Grissom nods. "I don't … I'm …" He swallows. "Sara, I don't want that for Anna. I don't want her to think that we love these foster kids more than her. I don't want so many of them to go through this house that, in fifteen years, she won't remember their names."

"I don't want that, either," Sara agrees. "This isn't an orphanage, Gil. We're a family first. Always."

"Right." Grissom licks his lips. "We need to make sure that Anna knows that."

Sara exhales. "Okay," she says. "No more fosters."

Grissom's eyebrows shoot up. "What?"

"No more. We'll keep Jake and Laura, but no more after them. If Melinda calls and asks us to take another, we'll turn her down." She smiles slightly. "At this point, we can't take another without asking the kids to share rooms, anyway."

"You're absolutely sure about this?" Grissom asks.

"Yes."

"Even if …"

"If what?"

He takes her hand. "If Melinda calls tomorrow and says they've found Laura's family and she's leaving us, will you stick with this? Or will you want another one to take her place?"

Sara swallows, but holds his eyes. "Even then," she says. "Anna is the most important thing, Gil. She needs to understand that people are _people_, not placeholders."

Grissom nods. "Okay. No more fosters."

Sara smiles slightly. "I like our family as it is."

He smiles and pulls her into his arms. "I do, too."


	26. Preparations

A/N: School's out for summer! And, once I'm back from my school trip at the end of the month, you can expect more regular updates. Thanks for your patience though this academic year.

Thanks for reading, reviewing, and for your prayers as I embark upon a 10 day trip with nine teenagers…

Enjoy!

* * *

_March 2016_

"Anna, did you clean your room?"

"Yes."

Sara eyes her critically. "Is it inspection-ready?"

Anna sighs and turns to go up the stairs without comment. Sara shakes her head, then turns to look at Jake.

"My room is clean," he says before she can ask.

"Good," she says. "Will you clean the windows downstairs? I have a feeling the dog has put his nose on as many as he can reach."

Jake nods without comment, and goes to retrieve the Windex. He knows better than to argue with Sara. Even if he wanted to, the look in her eyes is enough to stop him.

To say that she is stressed out is putting it mildly. Jake wishes he knew why.

* * *

When Grissom arrives home from work, his entire family is in the front yard. Jake is mowing, Anna is pulling weeds – both activities that Grissom has always found to be rather pointless in Las Vegas – and Sara is clipping hedges. Laura is supervising the operation from the safety of her activity walker.

"What's going on?" he asks as he joins them.

Sara puts down her hedge clippers and wipes the back of her hand and wrist across her forehead. "We're cleaning up the yard."

"So I see," Grissom said. "Dare I ask why?"

"Because the house is spotless," Jake mutters. Hoping that Sara did not hear him, he continues pushing the mower across the yard. The lack of reaction from both of his foster parents is enough to tell him that his comment went unnoticed.

"I want it to look nice," Sara says to Grissom.

Understanding dawning, Grissom smiles slightly. "Tell you what: I'll help Jake finish up here. You and the girls can get out of the sun for a little while."

Sara looks at him critically. "You're not doing yard work in those clothes."

"I'll change first."

She finally nods. "Okay."

"Okay," Grissom repeats. He lifts Laura out of her chair to carry her inside.

Sara picks up her clippers again. "Anna, push Laura's chair inside."

"We're going in?" she asks, confused by the turn of events.

"Daddy wants to work on the yard," Sara replies. "We can make a special dessert for dinner with Nana, if you'd like."

"Let's make brownies!"

Jake bites his cheeks to keep from laughing. _Brownies are special?_

"Okay. Let's go get started."

Within a few moments, Grissom joins him in the yard. He steps in front of Jake, and holds up his hand. Jake stops the mower, and looks at him questioningly.

"How long have you been working?"

"Out here, or in general?"

Grissom sighs. "You know that Sara isn't normally like this," he says. "It's just … She and my mother have a … I guess you could say, a somewhat tense relationship. They got off to a bad start, which was at least partially my fault. And, I know they've tried to become close over the years, but … neither of them is the type of person for whom that comes easily. I'd say they just need time, but …" He shrugs. "Their relationship is cordial, but it's not affectionate. I know that Sara always feels a need to impress my mother, which is why she gets like this when we have dinner together."

Jake nods slowly. "She said something to me before about them not being close."

"That's probably the best way to put it," Grissom says. "But, Mom and Anna adore one another, and I know that's the most important thing to Sara."

"Yeah, Anna's been excited all day."

Grissom smiles. "I hope that it's a nice evening … for all of us."

* * *

_March 2004_

"Are you ready?"

"For what?" Sara asked blankly.

Nick frowned. "Are you serious?"

"Yes, and until you can be more specific, you're going to be mad at me," Sara replied. "Am I ready for _what_?"

Nick rolled his eyes. "Our practice relay tomorrow!" he said as though there could not possibly be another topic for them to discuss. "Everyone's going to be there – even Grissom with his follow car."

"Really?" Sara asked. "I didn't think the follow car was a required part of practice."

"I told him that, but he said he wanted to come along," Nick said. "Something about _what happens in practice happens in performance_."

Sara laughed. "That sounds like Grissom."

"Are you busy now?" Nick asked.

"Not overly," Sara said, banging her locker shut. "I was just about to head home. Why? What's up?"

"I thought we could go for a run," he said. "I know that Warrick and Catherine are working over today, but Greg's done now, too, so I thought maybe the three of us could do a few miles."

"Sure," Sara said, opening her locker again. "Just let me change first."

"Great," Nick said, grinning at her. "I'll go talk to Greg, and we'll meet you in the parking lot."

"Okay," Sara replied.

Nick left the locker room and Sara took her gym bag from her locker. She looked at it for a moment and allowed a brief shiver of nervousness to pass through her.

She and Catherine had done plenty of training together for the marathon relay. However, they had yet to run with the men on their team. Though neither had said it aloud, both were a little nervous about keeping up with the guys. Sara had thought that she would be able to postpone finding out until the next day, and that Catherine would be there with her.

But, with this impromptu run with Nick and Greg only a few minutes away …

It was time to see if she and Catherine had worked hard enough.

* * *

_March 2016_

Sara starts as the oven timer goes off. Grissom covers her hands with his before she has time to jump out of her seat.

"The brownies –" she begins.

"Everything looks great, Sara," he says. "Calm down."

"I'm very calm," she says.

Grissom smiles and releases her hand, letting her go to the kitchen to get the brownies from the oven. He follows her to check the sauce he has simmering on the stove.

"What are the kids up to?" Grissom asks as Sara takes the brownies from the oven.

"Laura still napping – thank goodness – and Anna and Jake are playing a video game."

"I'm not so sure that Wii was a good idea," Grissom says as he stirs his sauce.

Sara laughs. "It does keep them occupied. I need Anna to get in here, though. She needs to pick her icing and décor for these."

Grissom chuckles at her word choice. Since they first let her help decorate a cake, Anna has insisted upon large amounts of sprinkles on every baked good in the house.

"Anna!" Sara calls. "The brownies are done!"

"Yay!"

They can hear Anna running toward them, then a squeal and a crash. The sound of Anna's crying screams soon mingles with Laura's cries.

"Mommy!" Anna cries as she enters the kitchen.

"Did you fall, baby?" Sara asks.

Anna nods. "And, my gum fell out of my mouth and … _look_!"

She holds up a handful of hair that is tangled with chewed gum. Sara sighs and looks at Grissom.

"Pick your battle," she says.

"I've got the baby," he replies.

"Oh, sure," Sara says sarcastically. "The one time I _need_ you to be Mr. Wizard, you take the easy job."

Grissom laughs. "I'm sure you two will be fine."

Sara shoots him a murderous look that has him continuing to laugh as he leaves the room.

Grissom arrives in the baby's room to see that Jake has gotten there ahead of him. He is standing over the crib, staring at its small occupant with something akin to horror on his face.

"What's wrong?" Grissom asks.

"She's … a mess," Jake says, stepping back from the crib as Grissom joins him.

Grissom looks down at the baby and nods. "Diaper blow-out," he says.

Jake looks at him. "What?"

"Diaper blow-out," he repeats. "It happens. Let's get her cleaned up."

"Um … I'll just …"

"Stay," Grissom says. "As I recall, you have yet to learn the fine art of diaper changing."

"Right," Jake says. "I was sort of hoping to start with something less gross, though."

Grissom chuckles as he lifts Laura out of her crib. "Might as well start here. The next one you change will seem easy by comparison."

Jake exhales, realizing he's not going to get out of this. "Okay."

"Besides," Grissom says, stripping off the baby's clothes and tossing them into her hamper, "Sara's downstairs dealing with the gum that Anna got stuck in her hair. Would you rather be there?"

"So, how does this diaper thing work?"

Grissom laughs. "Thought so."

Jake looks down at the baby again. "Seriously … this is disgusting."

Grissom smiles. "Well, I do think that a bath may be in order …" He glances at the clock. "And, we'll have to hurry. Can you run the water for me?"

"Sure," Jake says, going to the bathroom and leaving Grissom to gather up the baby and her fluffy bathrobe.

When Grissom arrives in the bathroom, Jake is shutting off the water. Jake stands back to watch Grissom give the baby a quick bath.

"She's going to be disappointed," Jake says.

"Who?"

"Laura. She won't have time to play with her toys."

Grissom chuckles. "She'll deal with it."

He takes the baby out of her bath and dries her off while Jake drains the tub. They go back to her room, where Grissom puts her on her changing table.

"Now, I realize we're not starting from the very beginning with this one, but, for future reference, I've found that it's always a good idea to make sure that you have all your diaper changing supplies on hand before getting the baby onto the table."

Jake nods, doing his best to look the part of a good student.

"Sara is extremely organized by nature, so you'll usually find everything in exactly the same, convenient places." He began indicating each item's home as he lifted it to the table. "Wipes, cream, and, of course, diapers."

"That's all we need?"

"Technically, since we just gave her a bath, we don't really need the wipes –"

Grissom's statement is cut off as Laura urinates on him. A look of horror crosses Jake's face.

"She's peeing on you!"

"So she is," Grissom agrees. He takes a wipe from the box and cleans off his hands, then grabs another to clean Laura. "I was wrong. We did need the wipes this time." He tosses the used wipes in the trash. "So, next is the cream, and, then, of course the diaper. Are you watching?"

"Yeah, I'm watching."

Grissom narrates the process as he fastens the diaper in place. "And, there you have it: a clean baby," he says, picking her up. "Now, she just needs some clothes … Sara would want her in a dress, right?"

"I guess," Jake says.

"What's wrong?" Grissom asks, passing him the baby so he can choose Laura's new dress.

Jake shakes his head. "I don't get it. Can't _anything_ gross you out?"

Grissom thinks for a moment. "Not that I've seen so far. Not since I was about thirty, at least."

"You're serious?"

Grissom smiles. "Once you've dealt with a body that has decomposed the point of being completely liquefied, you're pretty much immune to what everyone else thinks is 'gross.' At least, I was. I don't know that Sara feels the same way."

"But, stuff like this … changing diapers, babies covered in poop … that's not gross to either one of you?"

Grissom laughs. "The first time it happened with Anna was … shocking. Sara and I had to work together on that one. Neither one of us realized anything like that would happen with our sweet, little baby. But, after it happened a second time – while we were visiting Greg, no less – we were pretty much over it."

"Huh."

"We all bring different experiences to our present lives," Grissom says, holding out his hands for the baby so he can dress her. "My dad died when I was so little, and I had so many questions that went unanswered, that I became very interested in death at a very young age." He shakes his head. "It sounds morbid, and, to be honest, it was, but I was autopsying dead animals from childhood just to see what made them work … and stop working."

"What?"

Grissom nods at the look on Jake's face. "That was a pretty standard reaction. It sort of led me down a path of solitude until I got older, and fell in with a group of people who understood scientific curiosity for what it is. Even in high school, being a brainy loner wasn't a good thing, socially speaking."

"No, I guess not."

Grissom finishes dressing Laura and looks at Jake fully. "How are you doing at school, Jake? Do you still talk to that girl? Molly, right?"

"Yeah," Jake says, blushing. "We have lunch together sometimes."

Grissom raises an eyebrow. "Lunch sometimes?" he repeats. "At school?"

Jake nods. "She can't sit with me every day," he explains. "Her friends don't like me."

"Why not?"

He shrugs. "I'm not like them."

Grissom nods. "But, that's why Molly likes you."

Jake stares at him. "I never thought of it like that."

Grissom smiles slightly. "Come on. Let's go downstairs and make sure that Sara hasn't resorted to cutting off Anna's hair."

Jake follows him out of the nursery, slightly dazed by their conversation.

* * *

_March 2004_

"This is so unfair," Warrick whined as he watched Sara, Nick and Greg walking toward the door, all dressed in their running clothes.

"Hey, it's not our fault we got done on time," Nick teased. "You're the lucky one who caught a break in his case, right?"

"Yeah, you would bring that up."

Nick laughed almost gleefully. "You were the one who was so proud of himself for his new lead. I believe you may have even laughed at me for letting my case go cold."

"Cold?" Sara said. "Please. We've only been working on it for two days. And, Grissom told us to go home and get some sleep, so we can look at it with fresh eyes tomorrow."

"No fair," Warrick whined again. "Catherine is never going to let me go home!"

"Not if you don't accomplish something, she won't," Catherine said, coming up behind him in time to hear his comment. She looked at the other three. "Are you guys going for a run?"

"Yeah," Nick said. "I'm thinking … two, two and a half miles."

"Well, have fun," she said. "Sara, can I talk to you for a second before you go?"

"Sure," Sara said. She nodded to the guys. "I'll meet you outside."

Once Nick and Greg had gone outside and Warrick had gone back to work, Catherine stepped closer to Sara.

"Are you ready for this?"

Sara nodded, not even asking what she meant. "I think so."

Catherine nodded. "We've trained hard, Sara. We can keep up with the guys."

Sara smiled slightly. "I hope so."

Catherine gave her a wink. "Kick their asses."

"You've got it."

Sara turned to join the guys, a smile lighting up her face.

* * *

They reached the park and climbed out of Nick's car – he had volunteered to drive – and surveyed the scene. The park was mostly deserted, with the exception of a few joggers.

"We're too early for the moms with kids," Greg commented as they stretched out. "Probably a good thing." He glanced at Nick, who laughed.

"That was Warrick who ran down the little kid, not me," he said. "I'm good at dodging them."

Sara raised an eyebrow.

"My mom's house on holidays is kid-heaven," he explained. "If you're not careful, you're going to trample one of them – and have a very angry sister to deal with."

Greg shook his head. "I am so glad I'm an only child."

"Okay," Sara said. "So, we'll try not to run over little kids or their parents. Can we get started?"

"Let's go!"

Nick set a brisk pace – almost a sprint – immediately. Sara was pleased to see that she could keep up – her long strides certainly helped – but wasn't sure how long she'd be able to keep up the pace.

"Are we doing hurdles, too, Nick?" Greg asked.

"Sorry," Nick said, slowing down.

Greg shook his head. "Nick always starts off crazy-fast, but he's limping by the end."

"Not limping," Nick argued.

"Well, moving slowly," Greg said.

Sara laughed. "You know, Catherine and I don't have these issues. We set a pace and keep it the whole way through."

Greg rolled his eyes. "You run like girls."

"Hey!"

Greg laughed.

"Come on, guys," Nick said. "Half a mile down! Less talking and more running!"

He picked up the pace again. Greg and Sara glanced at each other, then began running faster to catch up.


	27. Judgment

No ownership of CSI is claimed. Some inspiration and dialogue are taken from episode 420, "Dead Ringer."

* * *

_March 2016_

Grissom and Jake reach the landing as the doorbell rings. Anna's cry of "Nana!" seems to reverberate through the house.

"I sincerely hope that Sara got the gum out of her hair," Grissom says.

Jake smiles, but his eyes betray his nervousness.

"It'll be fine," Grissom says, adjusting Laura on his hip. "Let's go say hello."

Jake follows Grissom down the steps and to the front hall, where Sara and Anna are greeting Betty. She and Anna are already in conversation; their hands are flying. Jake feels his heart sink. Even with Anna's lessons, there is no way he can keep up with what they are saying.

Noticing her husband and foster children, Sara puts her hand on Anna's shoulder. Anna's hands pause as she turns to look at Sara.

"Can you introduce Jake and Laura to Nana?" she asks.

Anna jumps up and down in excitement. "Nana, this is Jake and this is Laura," she says, both speaking and signing, to Jake's relief. "They're my brother and sister now."

Betty signs something back to her. Jake has no idea what she said, but Anna frowns in confusion, and Sara's eyes narrow. Grissom hands Laura to Jake and steps forward.

"Hi, Mom," he both says and signs, leaning forward to kiss her cheek. "I'm glad you're getting to meet Jake and Laura. Like Anna said, they're part of the family now."

She holds his eyes for a moment, then looks at Jake, signing hello. Jake, pleased that he remembers that sign from the handful that Anna taught him, signs it back to her. She raises her eyebrows and looks at Grissom.

"Anna has been teaching Jake some sign language," he explains. "He wanted to be able to talk to you."

"I only know a little," Jake says, signing slowly.

_So did Sara, when I met her_, Betty signs back.

Jake frowns. "Too fast," he says, signing slowly again.

"She's just commenting on how much I had to learn when we met," Sara says.

As he watches Sara's hands, Jake feels, for the first time in a long time with the Grissoms, like an outsider. He doesn't understand this language, and the idea of learning it seems impossible. They are being incredibly kind by speaking along with signing for his benefit, but he knows that Betty can't do that. Not knowing what she's saying makes him feel like he is at a terrible disadvantage.

"Come on," Sara says. "Dinner is ready."

_I'm assuming Gil cooked_? Betty asks.

Sara laughs. "Of course."

"She's getting better, Mom," Grissom says.

Jake grabs Anna's hand as they walk to the dining room. "What are they talking about?"

"Nana said that she knows Daddy cooked, not Mommy," Anna says. "She always says that when she comes to our house for dinner."

Jake raises his eyebrows and sighs. _No wonder Sara said they don't get along_. He suddenly feels very pessimistic about the impending evening.

* * *

_March 2004_

"You did it!" Greg yelled, spinning around with Sara.

She laughed. "I did it!"

"Nick's off to a quick start," Greg commented, watching their friend begin his leg of the race.

Sara grinned. "I think he wants to make sure that I don't beat him."

"I _knew_ you should have let him win that race the other day."

"He was showing off," Sara replied. "Besides, Catherine was the one who said he needed to be taken down a peg."

"Yeah, blame it on Catherine," Greg said, shaking his head. "You were the one who beat him in practice, not her."

"Well, it looks like he'll beat me today," Sara said. "He's really moving!"

"I hope you don't care anymore," Greg said. "At this point, it's for the good of the team."

"Exactly. Hey, do you think we'll beat LA SWAT?"

Greg grinned. "I'm going to be happy if we don't come in last. How embarrassing would it be to be beaten on our home turf?"

"Greg, please don't try to sound like you actually played sports … ever."

Greg gave her a winning smile. "I like you, so I'll let that go. Come on. Let's go wait with Archie."

"Archie doesn't run until after Catherine, who runs after Warrick, who is after Nick."

"Exactly. It'll take us that long to get there."

"Why?" Sara asked blankly.

"Have you seen these roads? It took me ages to get here to meet you. If you had run any faster, I wouldn't have been here until after you. I actually thought about meeting Mandy, but there was no way I'd make it by the time she finished."

Sara laughed. As their lead-off runner, Greg had had a lot of time to kill. "Okay, I'll believe you. Let's go hang out with Archie."

* * *

"I thought Catherine was faster than this," Archie said, bouncing in anticipation. "Do you guys see her?"

"Catherine likes to pace herself," Sara said. "I'm sure she'll be here soon enough."

"I hope so," Archie said. "I can't wait to get started!"

"Hey, guys."

They all turned as Warrick approached, still wearing his running gear.

"You made it here fast," Greg said.

"Not all of us like to move as slowly as you," he said with a grin. "You're not going to like why I'm here, though."

"To cheer on your teammate?" Archie suggested.

Warrick shook his head. "We're out of the race."

"What do you mean?" Sara gasped. "We've been training for this for months! We're not dropping out!"

"I didn't even get to run yet!" Archie exclaimed.

"Hey, don't blame me," Warrick said, holding up his hands as if to ward off their verbal attack. "Blame Griss and Catherine. They found a dead body – a cop from LA."

"Oh, man."

Greg, Sara and Archie immediately calmed down.

"Where are we meeting them?" Sara asked.

"Greg is meeting them at leg sixteen."

Greg nodded.

"You two are coming back to the lab with me," Warrick said, nodding to Archie and Sara. "We've got a dead cop in a hotel room. Sara and I are on that one."

"I'll be waiting for the video," Archie said. He shook his head. "I still can't believe I didn't get to run."

"Another year," Sara said.

"Yeah," Archie said sadly. "Another year of training, too. The training part wasn't exactly what I'd call _fun_, you know."

Sara grinned. "You'll learn to love it."

He shook his head. "I think I'll stick to surfing, thanks."

Warrick looked at them and shook his head. "Can we go now? Or, would you two rather hang out here and debate the virtues of every sport we can come up with?"

Sara rolled her eyes, but smiled. "Okay, Warrick. Take us to the lab."

* * *

_March 2016_

Dinner is not nearly as painful as Jake and Sara have feared. Anna, in her excitement to see her grandmother, monopolizes a great deal of the conversation, telling her all about her friends and what she is learning at school. Betty is more than pleased by Anna's scholastic news, and encourages her to share more.

"Enough talking," Grissom finally says and signs. "Anna, you need to eat something."

Anna frowns. "But, I want to talk to Nana. I haven't seen her in _ages_."

"You can talk to her all you want after dinner, sweetie," Sara says.

"But –"

"_Daddy is right, love_," Betty says. "_You need to eat_."

"You're going to stay a while after dinner, right?"

"_Of course_." Betty smiles. "_I want to spend as much time with you as I can_."

"Good." Anna picks up her fork to finish her dinner.

Betty smiles at her, then at Grissom and Sara. "_She's a good girl_."

"We know," Grissom says, smiling at Sara.

"_Have you looked into summer programs for her? You want to make sure that she keeps up academically over the summer_."

"I don't know about that," Sara says slowly. "I like the idea of summer being time off – a true break."

"What are they talking about?" Jake whispers to Anna.

"Nana wants me to go to school over the summer," she whispers back, frowning. "I thought there wasn't school over the summer."

"If you fail something, there is," Jake replies softly. "But, you always get As. Don't worry about it."

Anna smiles at him, looking relieved. "Good."

Betty frowns. "_But, she's so bright – you should let her use that time to learn even more_."

"She'll learn plenty, Mom," Grissom says. He smiles at Sara. "We could take her on a battlefield tour in Pennsylvania."

Sara rolls her eyes. "I'm going to _kill_ Sofia for telling you about that."

"_Sofia_?"

"A coworker," Sara explains. "She told Gil, years ago, about spending her childhood summers touring Pennsylvania to learn about the Civil War."

"She was very lucky that her parents cared so much about her education," Grissom says.

"_Gil's right_," Betty says. "_Anna should have every opportunity. That's why I asked about summer programs. I'm not trying to tell you how to parent her, you know. I'm just making suggestions_."

Sara wants to laugh. For the first two years of Anna's life, Sara was not sure if Betty was clear on which of them was the little girl's mother.

Knowing what his wife is thinking, Grissom clears his throat. "Tell us about Florida, Mom."

"Did you go to Disney World?" Anna asks. "I want to go there."

"_Maybe you can … later_," Betty says. Her eyes flick to Jake and Laura.

Sara frowns. "_I don't think I like what you're implying_," she says, abandoning using her voice.

"_Sara, you have to admit_ –"

"_No_," Grissom signs empathetically. "_Not with the children at the table_."

"What's going on?" Jake whispers.

"I don't know," Anna replies. "They're not saying what they're talking about, but Daddy said they can't talk about it when we're here."

Jake frowns, his heart sinking. He has a feeling he knows _exactly_ what they're talking about.

* * *

_March 2004_

"Two dead cops," Warrick said as he and Sara returned to the lab with their evidence. He shook his head. "So much for fun at the law enforcement party."

Sara sighed. "Manny Senteno was married. Vartann is bringing his wife in to identify the body."

"Ouch," Warrick said. "Do you want me to go?"

"No, I'll do it," Sara said.

"Are you going to tell her that he was found with another woman in his room?"

Sara shook her head, her eyes straight ahead, focusing on something neither of them could see. "I … really don't know."

"I think you should," Warrick said. "She deserves to know."

"Do you think so?" Sara asked. "Wouldn't it be better to let her think that her husband was always faithful?"

"I believe in the truth," Warrick said. "Besides, I'm sure finding out that the other woman is dead, too, will soften the blow."

Sara rolled her eyes. "Let's hope so."

* * *

An hour later, Detective Vartann found Sara and Warrick in the layout room, going over evidence. He tapped on the doorframe as he entered the room.

"Hey," he said. "Mrs. Senteno just arrived. Who's coming to the morgue with us?"

"I am," Sara said, getting up from her stool.

"Okay. She's in the lobby."

Sara nodded, and followed Vartann to the lobby. Mrs. Senteno was sitting alone, twisting her purse straps around her hands over and over again. She looked close to tears.

"Mrs. Senteno?" Vartann said gently as they approached.

She jumped to her feet and looked at Vartann without speaking.

"This is Sara Sidle," he said. "She's a crime scene investigator, and she's working on finding out what happened to your husband."

She nodded. "Hello," she mumbled.

"Hi, Mrs. Senteno," Sara said. "I'm very sorry for your loss."

She nodded again. "Can I see my husband now?" she asked, addressing the question to Vartann.

"Of course," he said, ushering her out of the lobby.

They walked to the morgue in silence. Vartann paused before opening the door.

"This won't be easy, Mrs. Senteno."

She nodded.

Taking a deep breath, Vartann opened the door and ushered the women into the morgue ahead of him. He walked to the table that held Manny Senteno with a sheet covering him. Mrs. Senteno caught her breath as she stared down at the sheet. Sara crossed to the other side of the table to stand with Vartann.

"Okay?" Vartann asked.

Mrs. Senteno nodded and took a deep breath, staring down at the table. Vartann pulled back the sheet; tears filled her eyes as she looked at her husband.

"Mrs. Senteno, is this your husband?" Vartann asked.

"He doesn't wear his hair like that," she said, shaking her head slightly.

"There's some forms for you to sign, then we can talk in the lounge," Vartann said, starting to pull the sheet back over Manny's face.

Mrs. Senteno caught his hands to stop him from pulling the sheet up.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Mrs. Senteno, we haven't finished our investigation yet, but your husband died from a gunshot wound," Sara said.

"Who shot him?" she asked.

"We don't know," Sara replied.

"Where was he found?" Mrs. Senteno pressed.

"In his hotel room."

Understanding seemed to dawn on Mrs. Senteno as her eyes fell on the next body over; the second hotel room victim's foot, complete with painted toenails, was visible.

"He wasn't alone, was he?" she asked, looking back down at her husband's body.

"No," Sara confirmed.

"I married a cop," she said. "With that comes alcohol and women to take the edge off. First time … he said it meant nothing. He promised never to do it again. By the third time … I told him to stop confessing. I wasn't going anywhere."

Sara raised an eyebrow slightly. "Don't ask, don't tell," she said, struggling to keep the judgment out of her voice.

"I wasn't willing to trade my family for the flavor of the month," Mrs. Senteno said. "That doesn't make me pathetic."

"No one's saying that it does," Vartann said as Sara silently held Mrs. Senteno's eyes. "Are you ready?"

Mrs. Senteno nodded, still staring at Sara. "What would you have done?" she asked. "Would you have left your husband for it? When it's something that's so common among his …" She trailed off and swallowed her tears.

"Come on," Vartann said, putting his hand on the small of her back to lead her out of the room. He glanced back. "Sara?"

"I … need to go back to the lab," she said. "Unless you need me?"

He shook his head. "I'll call you if I do."

"Thanks."

Sara waited until she was sure they were gone, then walked slowly out of the morgue. Her thoughts raged against Mrs. Senteno. _How could she do it? How could she stay with him even after …?_

She took a deep breath. "I would have left," she whispered. "I _did_ leave. I wouldn't let a man treat me that way." _And, Mrs. Senteno, neither should you._

"Why did he put her in that position?" she whispered. "And, why did another cop let it happen?"

Sara was almost ashamed to admit that, even though she had worked with the police for years, she had never stopped to notice if the reputation they had earned was valid. Was Mrs. Senteno right? Was it to be expected that a cop would cheat on his or her spouse? Or, was that something that her husband had convinced her was true to cover up his own misdeeds?

And … if the reputation was based in fact, did it extend beyond the police officers themselves? Perhaps … even into the crime lab?

Lost in her thoughts, she barely noticed Warrick until he bounded out of the break room to catch up to her.

"Hey!" he called. "What happened? Did you break the bad news to the wife?"

"Oh, I didn't have to," Sara said.

Warrick exhaled. "Women always know," he said.

"Not always," Sara said, remembering how long she had dated Hank before realizing that she wasn't his only lover.

"I think so. Women always know when their man is straying."

"What are you, the voice of experience?" Sara asked testily.

Warrick chuckled. "No. I'm a really nice guy."

Sara smiled. "Oh, I believe you."

"Well, you need to believe this," he said, opening a folder to show her.

Their conversation turned to the case, for which Sara was grateful. She didn't want to think about cheating men, or women who may or may not realize what was going on, anymore.

* * *

_March 2016_

The longest dinner Jake can remember finally ends. He looks at Sara.

"I'll clean up," he volunteers.

"Thank you, Jake. That's sweet."

"I want to help," Anna says, jumping up with him.

"Is that okay?" Grissom asks, looking at Jake.

"Sure," Jake replies, handing her a fistful of silverware to carry into the kitchen. "Got it?"

"Yes."

Anna leads the way into the kitchen; Jake follows her with a stack of dishes.

"Remember, that's the nice china," Sara calls after them. "No dishwasher!"

"We know!" Jake calls back.

"_It's nice to see that he's helpful_," Betty says.

"_Jake's great_," Grissom says, abandoning speech now that Jake has left them.

"_How long do you anticipate he'll be here_?"

Sara frowns. "_He doesn't have any family, Betty. We'll keep him as long as we can_."

"_You're sure? Don't foster children … flit about_?"

Sara's frown deepens. "_What does that mean_?"

"_It just seems … from what I've heard … they aren't … constant_."

"If that's the case, it's because of the families they're with," Sara says, suddenly breaking into speech with her signing. "Families give them up, Betty, not the other way around."

"Sara," Grissom says quietly, "you don't have to do this."

"I do," she whispers. She looks at her mother-in-law. "_Tell me what you're so afraid of. Tell me what about this bothers you so much._"

"_Sara_," Betty signs slowly, "_I know that you are a wonderful mother. I know that. I just … worry about Anna. I worry about the affect this will have on her. She's obviously very attached to Jake, and I don't want to see what will happen to her when he leaves_."

"_Jake isn't going anywhere_."

"_I know there are reasons he could leave_ …"

She shakes her head. "_He doesn't have any family. We're all he has, Betty, and I don't want him to lose that_."

"_Sara, I know you have a big heart, but_ –"

"I was a foster child," she interrupts. Tears suddenly fill her eyes, and sign language is forgotten as she begins to vocalize. Grissom jumps in as her interpreter, a job he has not filled for many years.

"For years, I didn't have a family," Sara says. "All I wanted was for _someone_ to keep me for more than a few months at a time. If I can save Jake and Laura from that … I'll do it. I don't want anyone to have to go through what I did."

Betty pats her hand. "_You're a good mother_," she signs again.

Even so, the misgivings don't leave her eyes.

* * *

_March 2004_

"Hi," Grissom said, sitting down next to Sara in the break room. "I heard you guys solved your case."

"As it turns out, the grieving widow wasn't as accepting of her husband's extramarital affairs as she led me to believe," Sara said. "How about you guys?"

"Jealous teammate doped him," Grissom said. "He honestly didn't expect to kill him – just incapacitate him so he could run his leg of the race."

"You know something?" Sara said. "I think I'm done with the Desert Relay. It's too much."

Grissom frowned. "But you had such a good time!"

"I did," she said. "But this whole … what did Catherine call it? Spring break with a badge?"

"Yeah."

"It's too much. We need to act like grown-ups, you know?"

"You always do."

"Yeah," she said, looking away.

Grissom smiled and put his hand over hers. "Have you eaten? We could go get breakfast."

Sara looked at their hands for a minute and gently pulled hers away. "No," she said.

Grissom frowned. "No?"

"Griss, I …"

He looked at her intently. "Tell me."

"Mrs. Senteno said she accepted her husband sleeping around because he's a cop. I'm not sure if she just said that, or if this truly was the affair that broke her resolve. Either way … I won't be played for a fool again."

"Sara, what on earth are you talking about?" Grissom asked.

"I waited for you for _years_," she said. "Then, when we had our chance, you said it wasn't working. So, that was it. You're married to your job, and can't make room in your life for me." She stood up. "I've been someone's other woman, and I've been your plaything. I'm just afraid …"

"Of what?" Grissom asked, standing up with her.

"With you, if I let us have another chance, … I'll be both."


	28. Roller Coaster

A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing!

No ownership of CSI is claimed. Some inspiration and dialogue are taken from episode 421, "Turning the Screws."

* * *

_March 2016_

Sara is in the baby's room when Grissom finds her. She is in the rocking chair, humming softly as she rocks Laura to sleep.

"Hi," he whispers.

"Did she leave?" Sara whispers back. She stands up to put the sleeping baby in her crib.

Grissom nods. He follows Sara out of the nursery, and puts his hands on her shoulders, massaging them gently.

"I'm fine, Gil."

"Are you sure?"

Sara turns to face him. "We've been together for a lot of years. I know how dinner with your mother will go." She smiles slightly. "I don't hate her, you know."

"I didn't say that you do."

"But, you're not sure that I don't."

Grissom sighs. "Sara, I know that you and my mother have a … difficult relationship."

Sara shrugs. "We can't get along beautifully with every person we meet. Betty and I will never be best friends. Maybe we're too different. Maybe we're too much alike. I don't know." She smiles and cups his face in her hands. "But, what I _do_ know is that we both love you very, very much. And, because of that, we will always be important in each other's lives."

Grissom leans in to kiss her. "I love you very, very much, too."

Sara smiles and kisses him again.

* * *

_March 2004_

Grissom looked at his ringing phone on his desk and sighed. He truly wanted to get his reports done after putting them off for nearly a month, but someone else always had other plans for him. He picked up the phone and looked back at the report in front of him, wondering if he could multitask his way through a conversation.

"Grissom."

"Gil, I need you at a scene."

"Lovely to hear from you, Jim."

"I've got a scene with six victims," Brass said, ignoring Grissom's commentary on his phone etiquette. "Interested?"

"Where are you?"

Brass hesitated. "You're not going to like it."

"Try me."

"I'm at the Sphinx Amusement Park." He paused. "Pharaoh's Fever derailed."

"I'm on my way."

Grissom put his phone down and squinted across the room at his assignment board. Sara and Nick were both free, but Catherine and Warrick had a homicide of their own. He had a feeling that it was going to take more than just three of them to handle the scene.

Leaving the quiet of his office, Grissom went on a search for his team. He found Nick and Sara in the break room, working on reports for their recently closed cases.

"Hey," he said, stopping in the doorway.

"Hi, Griss," Nick said almost absently.

"Hello," Sara said, looking up from her report.

"Brass just called in a roller coaster derailment at the Sphinx Amusement Park," Grissom said. "I'm going to head over now. I need both of you two to help me."

"Sounds like a pretty major one," Nick said, leaning back in his chair. "Can we call Warrick or Catherine from their case?"

"No, leave them," Grissom said. "I was thinking we could bring Greg along."

Sara's eyes widened. "He's been saying he wants to get in the field more."

Grissom nodded. "Exactly. We'll have plenty of tasks on this one that will give him good experience."

"Okay," Sara said. "I'll go talk to him."

"Make sure you talk to Hodges, too," Grissom said. "We'll need someone to cover for Greg while he's in the field."

"Oh, Hodges will _love_ pulling double duty," Sara said, smirking.

"It may be a nice idea to remind him that he _does_ love getting paid," Grissom said. "I'm leaving now. You two get your stuff together, get Greg and meet me there."

"You've got it, Boss," Nick said.

After Grissom left the room, Nick looked at Sara. She looked back quizzically.

"What?"

"Do you think this one will be rough for Grissom?"

"Why?" Sara asked blankly.

Nick grinned. "A roller coaster is turning on him."

Sara smirked. "We'll get to see his ability to detach emotionally. That's always fun."

Nick laughed. "Come on. Let's get Greg and get out of here. We don't want to be late to meet the boss."

* * *

_March 2016_

"Hi, Daddy!"

"Good morning, sunshine," Grissom says as Anna climbs into her chair at the table. "I just made some pancakes. Do you want one?"

"Yes, with syrup, please."

Jake rolls his eyes. "You can't put your own syrup on your pancakes yet?"

"I can, too!"

Grissom closes his eyes, already envisioning his table covered in syrup. "I'll do it for you, Anna."

"No, I want to!"

The look on her face – one that he has seen so many times on her mother's – is enough to tell Grissom that he has no chance of winning this battle. He puts a pancake on a plate and slides it in front of Anna. She reaches across Jake for the syrup and proceeds to drown her pancake in it. She giggles as she watches it pool around the edges of the plate.

"I think that's enough," Grissom says, eyeing her plate.

"Just a little more."

Finally satisfied with her syrup application, Anna lifts the bottle with a flourish that sends syrup across the table in an arc. Grissom sighs and goes for a cloth to clean it up.

"Hi, guys," Sara says as she walks into the kitchen, still wearing her CSI vest from her recently-ended shift. She looks at the sticky table. "What happened?"

"Syrup malfunction," Jake says, grinning at Anna.

Sara looks from Anna to her plate to Grissom. "You let her put her own syrup on her pancake?" she asks blankly.

"You know, I can't even say that it seemed like a good idea at the time," Grissom said.

Sara shakes her head. "Is this what you guys do when I'm not here?"

"Only on weekends," Jake says helpfully. "During the week, we're getting ready for school."

"I suppose that makes it better," Sara says. "I'm going to go take a shower. Can I trust you three not to destroy my house while I'm doing that?"

Grissom smiles. "We'll do our best."

* * *

When Sara returns to the kitchen after her shower, Grissom and the children are still seated at the table. She pours herself a cup of coffee and sits down with them. Grissom looks at her breakfast with a frown.

"You should eat something, you know."

Sara smiles. "Thanks, Mom."

Grissom sighs. "Do you have any plans for the kids for today?"

"No. Why?"

"Well," he says, his eyes flicking from Sara to Jake and back, "I thought Jake and I could head over to the Sphinx Amusement Park today."

Sara raises her eyebrows over her coffee cup. "Sounds good to me," she says as she lowers her mug.

"Jake?" Grissom asks. "What do you think?"

"Yeah," Jake says, clearly stunned. "I've never been there before."

"An oversight I am happy to correct," Grissom says.

"I want to go, too!" Anna exclaims. "Can I come, Daddy?"

"Not this time, Banana," he says. "This time, it's just Dad and Jake time."

"That's not fair!" Her lower lip begins to protrude in a pout.

"Don't make that face, Anna," Sara says. "You and Daddy do plenty of things together. It's Jake's turn to do something with him." She glances over Anna's head at Grissom. "Besides, is staying with me so terrible?"

Grissom winks at her.

"But, you're not going to the amusement park!" Anna protests.

"No," Sara agrees. "But, we'll have fun at home."

Anna gives her such a disbelieving look that Sara wants to laugh.

"You'll see," she says. "We'll have a good time, too."

* * *

_March 2004_

Brass was waiting when Grissom arrived at the scene. He ducked under the crime scene tape and walked across the parking lot to where Brass was waiting.

"So, Dr. Thrill-seeker, you ever been on this roller coaster?" Brass asked by way of greeting.

"Pharaoh's Fever, yeah," Grissom said, looking up at the motionless coaster. "But, my ride ended at the platform. What do you know?"

"Six dead," Brass said. "Park full of witnesses saw the train fly off the tracks. Four-oh-one-B."

"Accident with injury," Grissom translated.

"Uh-huh."

"It's also a four-eighteen-B."

"A runaway?" Brass asked.

"A runaway train," Grissom said, nodding.

Brass looked at him and shook his head. "Really? That's what you're going with?"

"You have a better idea?"

Brass shook his head and chuckled. "Where's your back up?"

"En route," Grissom said. "Sara, Nick and Greg are coming."

"Sanders? Shouldn't he be in a lab somewhere?"

"He wants to spread his wings, Jim. Who am I to hold him back?"

"Don't let him screw this up," Brass said. "The Undersheriff was already here to tell me that this is the first runaway roller coaster in county history. He also made it very clear that there are massive criminal and civil liabilities." He shook his head. "Make sure you're not going with the B team on this one."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

"Good."

* * *

"This doesn't look good," Sara said from her spot riding shotgun as they drove up to the blocked amusement park entrance.

"No," Nick agreed, rolling down his window. "Hey, buddy!"

The man leaning against the news van meandered over to them. "What's up?"

"Would you mind moving your van? We need to get inside."

He shook his head. "Park's closed. You and the missus will have to find something else to do today."

Nick gave Sara a look of disbelief, then turned back to the van driver. "We're not here for a good time, sir. We're CSI. We're part of the investigation."

"Well, CSI, I'm KRZW. We're reporting the investigation."

"Look," Sara said, leaning across Nick, "if you don't let us in, you won't have much to report. Either move the van or we'll call our guys and _have_ it moved."

"All right, all right, no need to get your panties in a bunch," he said. "But, I'm moving right back after you guys are inside."

"You do that," Nick said.

"What a moron," Sara muttered as the man climbed into the news van.

"He's making us late," Nick said. "You know how Grissom gets when we're late."

"We'll just tell him a news van was in the way," Sara said.

She and Nick looked at each other and laughed. Greg, alone in the backseat, looked bewildered.

"What just happened?"

"All part of being in the field, Greggo," Nick said, pulling ahead as soon as the news van started to move. "All part of being in the field."

* * *

_March 2016_

"Are you a roller coaster man?" Grissom asks as he and Jake walk into the amusement park.

Jake shrugs. "I've never been on one."

Grissom hides his surprise and glances at Jake. "Never?"

"Nope. My parents weren't much for amusement parks."

Grissom nods, thinking that he should have guessed that. "Well, there are several coasters here. We can try them out and see what you think."

"You like roller coasters?" Jake asks in disbelief.

"Yeah," Grissom says as though it should have been obvious. "Come on. Let's go on this one first."

Shaking his head slighting at the mystery of Grissom, Jake follows him to the end of the line for Pharaoh's Fever.

* * *

_March 2004_

Taking Grissom's caution about keeping things low-profile to heart, Sara, Nick and Greg set up a tent in the parking lot to go through and document their evidence.

"Can't we just take everything back to the lab?" Greg asked, looking at the flimsy structure that was swaying gently in the wind.

"This is a lot of stuff," Sara said. "We need to organize it first."

"And, we're not entirely done with the scene yet," Nick added. "We don't want to get back to the lab and then have Grissom mad at us for leaving the scene early."

"Okay," Greg said slowly.

Nick grinned. "Just think of this as our mobile lab."

"Oh, ha, ha."

Sara grinned at Nick. "What do you think we can trust him to do?"

"Trust me to do?" Greg repeated disbelievingly. "You two are harsh."

Nick grinned again. "Come on, Greg. Help me sort everything. Like with like. Sara can document."

"Okay."

They were working in companionable silence when Grissom came into their tent. None of them reacted to his presence until he began to speak.

"'There are three things in human life that are important. The first is to be kind; the second one is to be kind; and the third one is to be kind,'" he quoted.

"Henry James," Sara said without looking up from her documenting mission.

"Very good," Grissom said, glancing at her, clearly impressed. "Author of one of the greatest horror stories ever written: _Turn of the Screw_. And, I'm looking for one."

"A screw?" Sara asked, finally looking up at him and smirking.

"Yes," he said, looking at her, knowing exactly what she had implied.

"Oh, well, technically these are eccentric shafts, not screws," Nick said, completely oblivious to the undercurrent in the room.

Greg, who had painstakingly put all the eccentric shafts into the same bin, hurried to get them. He handed the bin to Sara, who was closer to Grissom. He sat down next to her to go through them.

"Well, as long as you can screw a nut on it, it's a screw," Grissom said, pulling out his glasses to study their evidence.

"_Turn of the Screw_ isn't really a horror story," Sara said, getting back to work. "It's more of a mystery. Did the governess kill the little boy, or did the ghost do it?"

"Well, it's only a mystery if you believe in ghosts," Grissom said, looking at her over his glasses.

Sara gave him a look that clearly said he was ruining the story for her. Deciding to let it go, Grissom began a thorough examination of the screw in his hand.

* * *

"Hey, Sara, can you work a little overtime?"

"I suppose," Sara said, putting her jacket back into her locker. "What's up?"

Grissom stepped into the locker room. "I need to go back the park. I thought you could join me."

Sara smirked. "Sure."

* * *

_March 2016_

"That was _awesome_!" Jake exclaims as the train pulls to a stop at the platform. "Can we go again?"

Grissom grins. "Yeah. But, do you want to try the others first?"

"Yeah! I want to do _everything_! What's the closest ride?" Jake is practically bouncing as they walk down the ramp to exit the coaster.

"Closest ride, or closest roller coaster?"

"It doesn't even matter. What about that? Can we ride that?"

Looking at the spinning ride, Grissom nods. "Let's go."

Jake grins as they walk to the line. "Thanks."

"Hey, you're the boss today. You get to pick what we do."

"No, I mean … thanks for bringing me here. It's lots of fun."

Grissom smiles. "You're very welcome."

* * *

_March 2004_

"So, any guesses as to who tampered with the roller coaster?" Sara asked as they climbed out of the car. They had spent the entire ride establishing that Pharaoh's Fever was the likely victim of foul play.

"No," Grissom said. "I talked to the maintenance man who's in charge of it yesterday. I know he had access, so he should be a prime suspect, but I just can't see him doing anything to hurt one of the rides. Besides, he has no motive. Keeping the rides working is his job."

"Good point," Sara said.

"Back again?"

They both looked up as Woody, the maintenance man Grissom had interviewed, walked toward them. He smiled in recognition.

"Hello, Woody," Grissom said.

"How's the investigation going?"

"Coming along," Grissom said. "We're going to need to see the underside of the loading platform."

"Oh, follow me," Woody said, leading them toward it. "Rumor has it the park's going to shut down Pharaoh's Fever for good. You know anything about that?"

"No," Grissom said.

"Newspaper called it 'a death trap.' An 'accident waiting to happen,'" Woody said scornfully.

"You disagree with that?" Sara asked.

"Well, she's old and wrinkled, but I took good care of her," he said, opening the gate for them.

Grissom stood aside for Sara to go under the coaster, then crawled into the small space behind her. Woody ducked down to join them, but Grissom stopped him with a raised hand.

"Uh, Woody? We'd like to be alone."

A thrill of excitement shot through Sara. She knew Grissom didn't mean anything by it, and she knew that she had promised herself to stop thinking of him _like that_, but even so …

She hoped that the giddiness she felt wasn't obvious on her face.

"Well, easy access," Grissom commented as they looked at the track. "Wheels are in reach."

"Anyone could have loosened the nuts from down here," Sara agreed, thinking that the flimsy wooden gate Woody had opened for them was hardly secure.

While Sara swabbed what they assumed to be lubricant from a post, Grissom was distracted by a clicking sound. He looked up to see one metal pole clanging against another.

"Hey, look at that."

Sara pocketed her swab and looked in the direction he indicated.

"That's worse than just a wrinkle," she said.

"It's got a support beam under it," said a third voice.

Grissom and Sara both nearly jumped and turned to see Woody peering in at them.

"It's just a cosmetic problem," he said.

"Sir, you need to step away," Sara said, getting up to speak with him.

As she berated Woody for interfering, Sara wondered if she truly was upset about him interrupting their investigation, as she said – or if she was more upset that he had interrupted her "alone time" with Grissom.

Judging by the fact that Grissom just let her go on with her tirade, he was upset about their alone time being interrupted, too.

* * *

_March 2016_

"This was awesome!" Jake says as they walk through the parking lot to their car. "It was a great idea. Thank you for bringing me."

Grissom smiles as he unlocks the door. "You're welcome."

They climb into the car and buckle their seat belts, but Grissom does not start the engine. Jake looks at him curiously.

"Are you all right?" he asks.

"I … want to talk to you for a minute."

"Okay…" Completely clueless as to what Grissom is about to say, Jake can't help but feel a bit nervous.

"My mother can be … a difficult woman," Grissom says. "She has very strong opinions and convictions, and she does not keep them a secret. It's all I've ever known, so it's not something that bothers me. To me, it's just how my mother is. But, I know that Sara had to work to come to terms with it."

Jake nods slowly, trying to pretend that he understands the point that Grissom is making.

"Jake, I need you to understand that no matter what she thinks, Sara and I always do what we believe is right for us and our family. We always have, and we always will. You are a member of our family now, and we will do what is right for _all_ of us – including you."

Jake's eyes widen as understanding dawns. "Okay," he says.

"Okay?"

Jake nods. "Okay."

"Good." Grissom finally starts the car. "Let's go see what the girls are doing."

* * *

_March 2004_

"Are you busy?"

Sara looked up from the report she is signing to see Grissom peeking in the open break room door. "Not anymore. What's up?"

"Can you come back to the Sphinx with me?"

Sara groaned. "Again? I thought we closed the case."

"Please?"

"Okay." Sara stood up and closed her file. "Here," she says, handing it to him. "This is yours now."

He smiled. "Thank you, dear."

Sara struggled to hide her smile. "Let's go."

* * *

"So, did this case bother you?" Sara asked as they walked into the park.

"Why do you ask?"

"Well, I know you and roller coasters. It just seems like it would be more personal for you than some of the other cases."

"You live in an apartment building," Grissom said. "Does that make homicides in apartment buildings more personal for you?"

"That's not exactly the same, Griss."

He shrugged. "It kind of is."

"You're avoiding my question!"

He gave her a half smile. "Okay, okay. It wasn't difficult for me, if that's what you're asking. But, I have to admit, getting paid to hang out in an amusement park was nice."

Sara laughed. "That's not the answer I expected, but I like it."

"Hi, Dr. Grissom."

"Hi, Woody," Grissom said as the maintenance man met them. "Is everything set?"

"Sure is. Right this way."

Sara looked at Grissom as they followed the man straight past Pharaoh's Fever to another of the park's coasters. "What's going on? Has there been another problem?"

"Nope," Grissom said. "I just thought …"

He glanced at Woody, who wisely stepped out of earshot.

"Thought what?" Sara asked.

"I just thought that you and I could take a ride together."

Sara raised an eyebrow, thinking of the semen Greg had found in their runaway train. "A 'coaster date?'"

"Not in the sense that the park employees took them," Grissom said, winking at her. "I was hoping for something much … tamer."

"So, you just want to ride a roller coaster with me?"

"Yes." He wondered if she recognized the metaphor.

"Well …"

They were already there. And, even though she was trying very, very hard to avoid this sort of situation with him, even though he knew that …

"Okay," she finally said. "Why not?"

Grissom smiled. "Let's go!"

They climbed aboard and fastened themselves into their car. Woody started the ride, and Sara gripped the bar in anticipation.

"Excited?" Grissom asked.

"A little scared," Sara said. "I always get a little scared."

Grissom reached across and covered her hand with his. Sara flipped her hand over so she could hold his. Grissom smiled at her, and she smiled back.

Then, the ground seemed to fall away as the train went down the first hill. Sara clutched Grissom's hand, screaming loudly. Grissom laughed at her reaction, but yelled out as they went around a curve. Sara was thrown against him for a moment before they were both jerked in the opposite direction.

Sara had barely stopped screaming when they pulled to a stop at the platform. She looked at Grissom with shining eyes.

"That was so much fun!"

He laughed. "I'm glad you liked it."

"You've been on this one before, haven't you?"

"Yeah," he acknowledged.

They unbuckled their restraints, and climbed out of the car. Grissom waved to Woody, who was manning the controls.

"Thanks!"

"Anytime," the older man replied.

Grissom put his hand on the small of Sara's back to lead her down the ramp. Her eyes were still shining when they reached the pavement.

"Thank you," she said. "You went to a lot of trouble, and … I had fun."

"I'm glad," he said, looking deeply into her eyes. He brushed a strand of windblown hair back from her face.

"Griss …" Sara shook her head to bring her hair and face out of his reach. "This isn't going to happen."

Grissom dropped his hand. "Sara …"

She shook her head. "We're not going down this road again. We can't."

"I wish –"

"I wish a lot of things," Sara said.

"Yeah," Grissom said. He sighed. "I guess I do, too." He turned toward the parking lot. "Come on. I'll take you back to the lab."

Sara exhaled. "Thanks."

* * *

_March 2016_

"We're home!"

"Daddy!" Anna cries. "Come see!"

Grissom and Jake exchange a look, then follow the sound of Anna's voice to the living room. She and Sara are sitting across from each other on the floor; Sara is holding Laura's hands as the baby stands in front of her.

"What's going on?" Grissom asks.

"Watch!" Anna squeals. "Laura, come here!"

To Grissom's and Jake's amazement, the baby, who had only been crawling when they left the house, takes semi-confident steps across the room from Sara to Anna. Sara and Anna cheer as she tumbles into Anna's outstretched arms. Stunned, Grissom and Jake join in the cheers.

"When did she learn that?" Grissom asks blankly.

"About half an hour ago," Sara says. "Anna and I have been making her practice ever since. She's probably exhausted." She gives him a beaming smile. "Isn't this great?"

"We need to finish baby-proofing," he says.

Sara laughs. "Yeah. I'm on it."

Grissom glances at the clock. "Why don't I get on it? You should get some sleep before work."

Sara nods. "Okay. Thanks."

Grissom picks up the baby and tosses her in the air. "You did such a great job, Laura!"

She giggles as he settles her in his arms. Sara smiles and touches his cheek.

"Love you," she says.

"Love you, too."

Smiling, Sara goes upstairs to her bedroom. Grissom sets Laura back on the floor.

"Okay," he says. "Let's see her go again."

* * *

When Sara gets home for work the next morning, Grissom is alone with Laura in the kitchen. He is sitting in front of her highchair, feeding her breakfast; he looks up in surprise as Sara joins them.

"Hey," he says. "You're home early."

"Too much overtime," she replies, leaning down to kiss him. "Are the other two still in bed?"

"Yes," he says.

"Good," Sara says, sitting down with him. "I want to talk to you."

"Okay," Grissom says. "What's going on?"

Sara exhales slowly. "Watching Laura take her first steps yesterday, I realized something."

"What's that?"

"Gil …" She gives him a shaky smile. "I want to have another baby."


	29. Decisions

A/N: Happy Thanksgiving!

No ownership of CSI is claimed. Some inspiration and dialogue are borrowed from episode 422, "No More Bets."

* * *

_2016_

Grissom stares at Sara, the hand that was carrying Laura's spoon to her mouth stopping mid-air. Laura whines, bringing his focus back. He feeds her the spoonful, still staring at Sara.

"A baby?" he finally asks. "You want to have a baby?"

"Yeah," Sara says. She smiles, her features suddenly dreamy. "Wouldn't it be great to have a baby again?"

Grissom looks at Laura, then back at Sara. "What is Laura, exactly, if not a baby?"

"She can walk now! She's practically a toddler!"

Grissom chuckles. "One who is still quite reliant on us for things like food, my dear."

"Griss, think about it. She started _walking_ today. Walking! And, as I watched her, all I could think of were her firsts that we missed. Smiling, rolling over, sitting up … we didn't get to see any of that! And, I just … I want that. I want to have a baby, to watch her grow up and become a little person the way Anna has."

Grissom feeds Laura her last bite and shakes his head. "I don't know, Sara …"

"Gil, please …"

"Sara, do you realize how old we are?" Grissom asks, getting up to get a cloth to wipe Laura's face before releasing her from her highchair.

"Age is –"

"No," Grissom says flatly. "This time, age is _not_ just a number. It's a very serious biological concern. Think of all the risk factors for a pregnancy at this point. Think of how old we'll be – _I'll_ be – when this baby graduates from high school." He shakes his head. "I offer no guarantee that I'll be there for that, Sara. How fair is that to a baby? To let him grow up without a father?"

"The alternative is not letting him grow up at all," Sara says. She frowns. "Where is all this negativity coming from? A few months ago, you were quite excited about the prospect of becoming a father again."

"A few months ago, it wasn't a choice," he replies. "We were having a baby, and that was it. And, yes, I was happy about it. Excited. Eager to meet our new baby. But, Sara, it wasn't something we discussed or planned. It just happened."

"So … you think that we're better off that things happened the way they did?" Sara asks, her words forced out, tears shining in her eyes. "You think it's better that our baby died?"

"_No_," Grissom says forcefully. "That baby was a wonderful surprise, and it broke my heart that …" He pauses and swallows. "Sara, I don't know if we can go through something like that again. I just don't know if we can make it."

Sara frowns. "What do you mean?"

"If we try for another baby, there is every chance that we'll have another miscarriage. Is that really something we can live through twice?"

A tear slides down Sara's cheek. "But, what if -?"

"_Exactly_," Grissom interrupts. "What if?"

"Gil, you're not being fair. You're arguing two points at once, one of them pure conjecture."

"Both are valid arguments."

Sara shakes her head. "I can't have this conversation with you right now."

"You started it."

Sara stands up. "And, I'm ending it."

She stalks out of the room, leaving Grissom and Laura alone. Grissom looks at Laura and sighs.

"This is all your fault," he says as he lifts her out of her highchair. "You're the one who started walking."

Laura grabbed his collar, and he smiled and tickled her. She giggled.

"Ah, Laura," he sighed, kissing her cheek. "What am I going to do now?"

* * *

_2004_

After working with Warrick, occasionally Grissom, and spending a good deal of time working alone for several shifts in a row, Sara was almost surprised to see Nick sitting in the locker room when she entered it before the start of their shift.

"Hey," she said, wondering where he had been hiding for most of the week.

"Hey," he replied without looking up from the paper in his hands.

As Sara watched, he lowered it slowly and stared at the open locker in front of him.

"Everything okay?" she asked as he looked down at the paper again.

"This is about the Key CSI position," he said, holding the paper up. "Grissom recommended me."

Sara had not known that such searing hurt and disappointment could be brought about by such a small statement. She forced herself to mask her emotions and to smile in the face of her friend's good fortune.

"Congratulations," she said, noting that her efforts to smile were for nothing; Nick had looked down to shove the letter back into its envelope.

"That's not necessary," he said, standing up. "The position was cut. The budget had room for a new promotion or qiagen, bio-robot ez one. Greg will be thrilled."

"Yeah," Sara managed to say.

"Oh, well, it's just an honor to be nominated, right?" Nick said, smiling at Sara as he left the locker room.

Sara returned his smile with effort, thankful when he was finally gone. Still holding her jacket, she sank down onto the bench in front of her.

She had nearly forgotten about the promotion. She and Nick had applied so long ago that it seemed like a distant dream. And, after working together for so long to ensure that they were _both_ on the departmental radar for advancement, it came as a shock that only one of them had been chosen for it.

_Grissom nominated me._

Nick's words rang in her head, taunting her. How could Grissom have done this? How could he have chosen Nick over her?

Their failed relationship seemed to be the obvious answer. She shook her head in disbelief. Could he really be that petty? Could he really put their personal issues – issues they had agreed to leave out of the lab – ahead of Sara's career?

She exhaled slowly, trying to be rational. Maybe she had it completely wrong. Maybe it wasn't something she had or had not done. Maybe it was something Nick _had_ done.

Either way, she wanted – _needed_ – to know why Nick had been nominated over her. She would talk to Grissom as soon as she had a good opportunity.

* * *

_2016_

Grissom and Sara spend the day avoiding continuing their discussion. This is quite easy to accomplish; the children are all home on a sunny Sunday, providing an excellent distraction.

Grissom feels only slightly guilty for avoiding Sara by turning on the Cubs' game. She likes baseball enough to watch it with him when she's in the mood, but he knows that turning the game on after their morning conversation is an excellent way to buy himself some solitude.

As the game goes to a commercial, Grissom sighs. He is not nearly as absorbed in the game as he should be, and he knows exactly why.

"Another baby," he whispers to himself. He exhales and scrubs his hands over his face.

The reality is that he loves children, particularly his own. Anna's birth was the highlight of his life, and he adores her. After so many months with them in his house, he has come to love Jake and Laura as his own children. And, despite what Sara may think after their conversation over Laura's breakfast, he was incredibly excited to have another baby when she told him their surprising news that winter.

Even so …

The idea of planning to have another baby is terrifying. He was very honest with Sara: He does not want to put a child in a situation where he or she is likely to grow up without a father. He knows that pain, and would never wish it on any child, much less his own.

As the commercial ends, Grissom notes that the game is only in the third inning. He can't help but feel relieved. He still has quite a bit of time to use this excuse not to talk to Sara.

He still has plenty of time to find a way to convince her that having another baby at this point in their lives is not a good idea.

"Hey."

Grissom looks up as Jake comes into the room. "Hi," he says. He waves a hand toward the television. "Do you like baseball?"

Jake nods and sits down with him on the couch. "The Cubs?" he asks.

Grissom nods. "They're my favorite team."

Jake looks at him in disbelief. "Really?"

"Well, who's your favorite?"

"The Yankees."

Grissom shakes his head. "Sell-out."

Jake grins. "At least my team _wins_."

"Because they buy their talent."

"Because they can afford to."

Grissom slides the bowl of pretzels he has been munching on toward Jake. "Have some."

"No, thanks. If I start eating those, I'll have to go into the kitchen for a drink."

Grissom raises his eyebrow. "What does that mean?"

"Sara and Anna are baking."

Grissom slides his own glass of water across the coffee table. "We can share."

Grinning, Jake takes a handful of pretzels. "Thanks."

Grissom smiles at him. "You're welcome."

Companionable silence falls as they watch the game together.

* * *

_2004_

"So, are we still going with Sam Braun?" Sara asked as she, Nick and Warrick studied evidence in the layout room.

"He's our only suspect," Warrick acknowledged. "The kid was found in the neon graveyard under one of his old casino signs. He had a receipt in his pocket and technology in his shoe that tell us he was ripping off the Rampart. He has broken knuckles – old style Vegas punishment for cheaters."

Sara shook her head. "I don't know …"

"What's bothering you?" Nick asked.

"It just seems too … easy. Sam Braun isn't going to make it obvious if he kills someone."

"She's right," Nick said. "Why would he leave him in the neon graveyard under the Whiskey Town sign? Why would he leave the receipt in his pocket?"

"You think he was framed?" Warrick asked.

"I think it's a possibility," Sara said.

"New evidence," Grissom said, walking into the layout room.

"What have you got?" Warrick asked.

"Sam Braun's limo."

Nick and Warrick looked at each other with identical grins, their faces lighting up. Grissom looked between them and shook his head.

"Sara, come with me to process it," he said.

Nick's and Warrick's faces fell. Sara grinned.

"I'll see you two later."

As they walked to the garage in silence, Sara felt nervousness coursing through her. She _had_ to ask him – this was the opportunity she had been waiting for all day. Even though she knew she needed answers, she was terrified to get them.

"Let's measure first," Grissom said as they walked into the garage. He picked a tape measure up off the table. "If it doesn't match the measurements Catherine took at the scene, our work is done."

Sara nodded.

He pulled out the tape and handed the end to her. Sara crouched down beside the rear tire and took out her flashlight to begin inspecting it while she waited for him to walk to the front tire. She gathered her courage as she avoided looking at him.

"Nick said the budget was cut for the promotion," she said as he crouched down facing her.

"Two hundred forty inches, twenty feet," he said, reading the tape measure rather than responding to her statement.

"He also said you recommended him," Sara said, finally pointing her flashlight away from the tire and looking up. She released the tape, letting it snap back toward him.

"I did," Grissoms said.

He held her eyes, trying to read them. They were almost unreadable. Yet, despite her brave exterior, he could see the flickers of hurt and disappointment.

When he did not say anything further, Sara turned back to her work. She shone her flashlight on the tire again.

"Possible neon glass fragments," she said, putting the flashlight aside to collect the evidence.

Grissom abandoned the front of the car under the pretense of checking her evidence. He crouched down in front of her and barely glanced at the neon glass that she held between them. Rather, he looked at her, trying to gauge her emotions. Feeling his eyes on her face, Sara looked up. Recognizing the warning in her eyes, he stood up.

"Interior?"

Sara nodded and secured her glass fragments before standing up to open the nearest door of the car. She immediately moved to the seats closer to the front of the limo while Grissom started on those that were the farthest back.

"You said you didn't have a problem with me," Sara said, finding it immensely easier to talk to the seat than to Grissom.

"I don't," he said, turning slightly to talk to her. "I thought that Nick was the best candidate for the position."

"Why?" Sara asked, still talking to the seat.

Grissom paused, trying to decide how honest to be. Finally, he decided that she deserved the truth. He turned to face her, even though she would not look at him.

"Because he didn't care if he got the job or not."

Sara wanted to rage at him. How could he treat her like a child? How could he give her such a ridiculous answer? And, worse yet, how could he believe that it was true?

"That's a stupid reason," was all she said.

Grissom glanced at her. He was considering defending his rationale when he stumbled upon something that changed the entire course of the conversation.

"Blood."

Sara abandoned her own search for blood to join him. "I'll swab it and send a sample to Greg."

Grissom looked at her. "Sara –"

She shook her head. "Don't."

He sighed and backed out of the car. If she wanted space, he would give it to her.

* * *

_2016_

Normally, it is Grissom's favorite night. Sara doesn't have to work, and they can go to bed at the same time. He is already in bed reading when she comes into their bedroom. She barely glances at him as she makes her way to the bathroom to get ready for bed. Grissom sighs, but doesn't call her back.

It is not until she silently pulls back the covers on her side of the bed that he speaks.

"You're not being fair."

She turns to look at him. "What?"

"You sprung this on me out of _nowhere_, Sara. Children aren't material things! This isn't like deciding to get a new lamp! I need time to think, time to consider …"

Sara sighs. "You're right. I'm sorry. But, Gil, you didn't have to be so … _mean_ about it."

"That's true," he says fairly. "I am sorry about the way I reacted. I think … I just didn't know how to react, that's all."

"Have you had time to think about it?"

"Some."

"But, you need more."

"Yes."

Sara studies him. "You need time to find a way to tell me no, don't you?"

"Sara, that's not fair."

"It's what you're thinking, though, isn't it?"

He can't bear to look into her eyes and see the hurt and disappointment. He reaches for her, drawing her to him.

"I love you," he says as she settles against his chest. "And, I love our family. You have to know that."

"I do," she agrees. "I do know."

"Good."

"Gil, I just … I really need you to think about this as a potential positive, okay? Stop thinking about all the negatives."

"I just …" He trails off.

"Tell me."

Somehow, it is easier to talk to her now, when she is in his arms, not looking into his eyes. "I'm terrified of leaving my children without a father," he admits. "You and I both know what it's like to grow up without a parent. I don't want to put my children through that."

Sara nods. "I understand," she says. "It's a noble thing to think of them – to love them that much. But, I think you're selling yourself short."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that you're incredibly healthy. That you take good care of yourself. That you stand a good chance of outliving me."

Grissom chuckles. "I don't know about that."

"I just … don't think we should make this decision based on _maybe_ or _what if_. I think we should make it based on the fact that we love each other." Sara sits up and takes his face in her hands. "I love you, Gil. I want to have your child." She leans forward and kisses him. "I want to watch a little piece of both of us grow up. I want to be a part of his or her life."

Grissom pulls her to him, hugging her tightly. "I'll … think about it."

Sara smiles against him. They are getting closer.

* * *

_2004_

Grissom signed the report and filed it. The case may not have gone the way he anticipated, but he was glad that justice would be served.

He glanced up as a shadow came toward his office door. Within moments, its owner walked past.

"Sara!" he called before he could stop himself.

She doubled back and stood in his doorway. "Yeah?"

"Come in a minute."

Sara stepped fully into the office and crossed to stand across his desk from him. She looked at him expectantly.

"Are you leaving?" he asked, noting the jacket she carried.

"Yeah," she replied. "It's nice to be done on time for a change."

He nodded. "Case closed, too."

"Yeah," she said yet again. "Are you … surprised?"

"That it wasn't Sam Braun?"

Sara nodded.

Grissom shrugged. "Nothing surprises me anymore."

Sara couldn't help the small smile that crossed her face at that. "Well … good night."

"Wait."

Sara stopped her near-turn away from him. She looked at him quizzically.

"About the promotion …"

She raised her eyebrows, silently waiting for him to continue.

"I think … no, I _know_ that you could do the job. It's just that Nick …"

"I know. He didn't want it."

"Which is what would make him so good at it."

Any surge of hope that Sara had felt with Grissom's initial assertion that she could do that job was lost in the stabbing hurt that followed his words.

"You mean, he could do it better than me."

Grissom remained silent, trying to find a good way to answer that.

Sara shook her head in disbelief. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Grissom stared after her as she left his office, completely baffled as to how the conversation had spun so far from what he had intended.

* * *

_2016_

Even though Sara is home and awake, Grissom still takes Anna and Jake to school on his way to work. As he pulls to a stop in front of the school, Jake grabs his book bag.

"Bye," he says. "Thanks."

"See you tonight," Grissom says.

Anna unbuckles herself a bit slower. "Bye, Daddy," she says.

"Bye, lady bug," he replies.

She purses her lips in an expression so reminiscent of Sara that he smiles. "I'm not a _boy_."

"Not all lady bugs are boys," he replies. "Just the one in the movie."

"Okay," she says in a rather disbelieving tone.

Grissom wants to laugh, but stops himself. "I love you, sweet pea."

"Love you, too!"

She darts out of the car and joins the waiting Jake for the walk up to the school. Grissom watches her go with a smile.

_I want to watch a little piece of both of us grow up_.

Sara's words ring in his head as he drives to work.

* * *

Grissom drives home from work much slower than usual. It is not that he does not want to get home. It is more that he is in a state of near-complete distraction.

He cannot stop thinking of Sara's words from the night before. She is right, of course. They can't dwell on all the potential pitfalls of every decision they make. He did enough of that when it came to Sara in the past. He thought that he had conquered that old habit, but, apparently, like so many others, it dies hard.

But, it is not only Sara's words that weigh on his thoughts. It is Anna, as well.

She is, as Sara said, a little piece of both of them. He sees Sara in her every day, but, with Sara's prompting, he can see himself, too. And, he knows that it means as much to Sara to see him in their daughter as it does to him to see his wife.

There are so many reasons that having another baby is a bad idea. And, yet …

He can't stop thinking of the ways that Anna's smile that is just like her mother's.

Grissom arrives home to find the house quiet. Anna and Jake are still at school, but Sara and Laura should be home; Sara's car is still in the garage. Grissom walks through the house slowly, trying to find his family.

After exhausting the first floor, he climbs the stairs. The door to Laura's room is open; soft light is coming from it.

Grissom walks into the baby's room to find Sara sitting in the rocking chair with Laura cuddled in her arms. As he steps closer, he realizes that they are both asleep. Smiling slightly, he takes Laura from Sara and settles her in her crib without waking her. When he turns back to his wife, he sees that she is waking up.

"Hi," she mumbles.

Grissom smiles and kneels down in front of her. "Hi," he replies, reaching up to touch her cheek.

Sara smiles. "Sorry," she says. "I guess I didn't realize how long we were in here."

"It's fine," he replies. He leans forward, pulling the rocker toward him so that he can kiss Sara. "Yes," he whispers against her lips.

Sara pulls back enough to be able to look into his eyes. "Yes, what?"

"Yes, let's have another baby."

Sara's eyes widen. "Yeah?" she repeats.

He nods. "Let's do it."

The last thing he sees before he gets caught in her kiss is her beaming smile.


End file.
